SECOND 


THOMPSON 
BUCHANAN 

Frontispiece 

HARRISON   FISHER 

Illustrations  JD^- 

W.W.FAWGETT 

NEW   YORK 

GROSSET   6    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS. 


COPYRIGHT,  1911,  BY 
W.  J.  WATT  &  COMPANY 


Published  February 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   PICTUEE 

THE  library  of  John  Chase's  town  house 
was  a  beautiful  room,  a  warm  luxury  glow- 
ing from  the  silken  draperies  of  red.  Its 
stately  magnificence  made  a  fitting  frame  for 
the  loveliness  of  the  girl,  who  just  now  stood 
high  aloft  on  a  step-ladder  in  a  pose  of  uncon- 
scious grace  that  showed  to  best  advantage  the 
lithe  roundness  of  the  virginal  form.  At  the 
moment,  she  held  her  arms  outstretched  to  the 
utmost  in  the  final,  successful  effort  to  adjust 
according  to  her  fancy  a  photograph  swung  by 
a  wire  from  the  cornice.  The  picture,  which 
was  evidently  an  enlarged  reproduction,  con- 
tained two  figures,  a  woman  and  a  child.  As 

3 

£134589 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

a  matter  of  fact,  the  photograph  had  been  taken 
some  ten  years  before;  and  the  child  of  nine, 
shown  there  in  a  skinny  awkwardness  of  im- 
maturity, with  a  mop  of  tawny  hair  braided  into 
the  distressful  angularity  of  a  pigtail,  was  the 
juvenile  caricature  of  Willa  Chase  herself,  who 
now,  in  the  first  flush  of  maidenly  beauty,  con- 
templated this  earlier  self  with  a  tolerant  and 
commiserating  smile. 

The  little  girl  of  the  picture  occupied  a  very 
modest  place  indeed  in  the  composition.  Her 
startled  expression  of  face  and  a  scrawny  bit 
of  the  body's  outline  were  all  that  a  discrimin- 
ating photographer  had  left  visible.  The  in- 
telligent artist  had  so  posed  his  subjects  that 
the  woman,  the  mother,  appeared  full  in  the 
camera's  eye.  Adorned  with  furs  and  a 
plumed  hat  of  sweeping  brim,  she  was  revealed 
in  detail  as  a  woman  of  statuesque  figure  and 
regular  features,  seated  with  impressive  dig- 
nity, albeit  somewhat  stiffly,  on  a  high-backed 
old  Spanish  chair.  The  observer  perceived  at 
once  that  here  was  portrayed  a  woman  of 

5 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ample  self-assertion.  Perhaps,  if  one  were  to 
study  the  picture  a  bit  captiously,  the  mouth 
might  be  deemed  a  trifle  too  tightly  drawn,  a 
trifle  too  hard  for  that  gracious  femininity 
which  her  bountiful  hair,  her  large  and  lively 
eyes  and  her  charmingly  molded  form  so  abun- 
dantly displayed. 

Willa  Chase  was  not  alone  in  her  contempla- 
tion of  the  photograph,  which,  at  last,  she  had 
succeeded  in  arranging  on  the  wall  according 
to  her  taste.  At  the  step-ladder's  foot  was 
standing  another  girl,  who  looked  on  the  scene 
with  a  half -sarcastic  smile — woman,  rather,  it 
were  just  to  call  her,  for  Edith  Thomas's 
debutante  days  were  already  something  more 
than  a  decade  in  the  past.  Yet,  an  exquisite 
care  of  the  person,  which  the  present-day 
femininity  has  learned  from  the  study  of 
hygiene  and  physiological  art  as  the  allies  of 
beauty,  had  served  to  maintain  in  her  a  wonder- 
ful freshness  of  wholesome  and  winsome  youth. 
No  casual  guesser  of  her  age  would  have  sus- 
pected her  to  have  passed  beyond  the  early 

6 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

twenties.  Those,  however,  who  observed  her 
intently  and  with  a  more  sagacious  scrutiny, 
might  have  noted  in  the  glance  of  her  charming 
eyes  a  certain  keenness  that  was  by  no  manner 
of  means  characteristic  of  inexperienced  maid- 
enhood; and,  too,  she  displayed  in  her  manner 
a  piquant  air  of  worldly  wisdom  that  savored 
mightily  of  maturity.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
Miss  Thomas  had  not  lived  her  years  stupidly. 
It  could  not  be  justly  said  that  she  had  merely 
seen  much:  she  had  perceived  a  great  deal,  as 
well.  Even,  in  recent  years,  she  had  become 
persistently  reflective,  and  it  is  safe  to  assume 
that,  when  this  habit  fixes  on  anyone,  it  affords 
proof  positive  that  first  youth  has  flown. 

The  half -satirical  smile  deepened  a  little  on 
Miss  Thomas's  lips,  as  she  regarded  the  flushed 
face  of  the  girl  on  the  ladder,  the  determined 
pout  of  the  curving  mouth,  the  resolute  gleam 
in  the  large,  heavily  lashed,  violet  eyes.  Miss 
Thomas's  smile  grew  distinctly  quizzical,  as  she 
continued  holding  the  step-ladder  in  a  fashion 
purely  ornamental.  She  made  no  attempt  to 

7 


conceal  the  emotion  provoked  in  her  by  the 
occasion.  On  the  contrary,  now,  she  laughed 
softly,  and  her  lips  had  parted  for  speech,  when 
an  interruption  came. 

Neither  Willa  nor  her  friend  had  given  heed 
to  the  entrance  of  a  third  woman  into  the  room. 
This  person  was  attired  in  a  black  gown,  and 
the  white  cap  and  the  apron  which  she  wore 
indicated  her  position  in  the  household.  Now, 
on  the  instant  when  she  became  aware  of  the 
picture  before  which  her  young  mistress  was 
posed,  she  stared  at  it  with  open  horror.  When 
the  first  paralysis  of  dismay  had  passed,  she 
threw  up  her  hands  in  a  gesture  of  despair;  a 
reproachful  frown  drew  her  brows,  as  she 
turned  indignantly  toward  the  girl  on  the  step- 
ladder. 

"Why,  why,  Miss  Willa!"  she  cried;  and  the 
distress  in  her  thin  voice  was  poignant.  "Oh, 
Miss  Willa,  surely  you  are  not  hanging  your 
mother's  picture — oh,  not  here,  right  here  in 
your  father's  own  house?" 

Willa  displayed  no  least  trace  of  amazement 
8 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

at  the  propounding  of  a  question  seemingly  so 
opposed  to  marital  ethics.  She  merely  con- 
descended to  glance  back  at  the  speaker  toler- 
antly, although  there  was  something  more  than 
a  hint  of  annoyance  in  her  tones,  as  she  an- 
swered briskly : 

''Of  course,  I  am  hanging  my  mother's  pic- 
ture," she  declared.  ''And  pray  tell  me,  if 
you  can,  why  I  should  not." 

"Well,  Miss  Willa,"  the  old  servant  replied 
severely,  "you  know  it  was  hid  away  very  care- 
ful in  the  attic,  so's  to  be  out  of  harm's  way." 

"To  be  sure,"  the  girl  agreed.  The  note  of 
annoyance  was  gone  from  the  young  voice,  now. 
Her  sense  of  humor  had  restored  the  elastic 
spirits  to  their  accustomed  level  of  careless 
gaiety.  "Yes,  that's  where  I  got  it.  I'll  admit 
that  it  was  well  hidden  away.  It  took  me  just 
two  hours  of  hard  hunting  through  all  the  odds 
and  ends  of  the  universe.  Messy  old  place,  the 
attic!" 

The  old  servant  shook  her  head  dolefully,  as 
if  presaging  unnamable  disasters  that  must  re- 

9 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

suit  from  her  mistress's  indiscretion.  She  was 
about  to  put  some  part  of  her  protest  into 
words,  when  her  purpose  was  forestalled  by 
Miss  Thomas,  who  interrupted  vivaciously,  a 
smile  of  mirth  bending  her  delicately  molded 
lips. 

"Why,  of  course,  she's  hanging  her  mother's 
picture,  Maria.  And,  indeed,  what  reason  is 
there  why  she  shouldn't?  Yes,  just  think  of 
it — it  will  be  such  a  pleasant  surprise  for  Mr. 
Chase,  when  he  returns,  and  comes  upon  it  un- 
expectedly." The  speaker's  smile  deepened, 
and  dainty  lines  creased  at  the  corners  of  the 
clear  eyes.  "You  know,  Maria,  there  is  noth- 
ing in  the  world  that  is  quite  so  gratifying  to 
a  man  as  to  come  back  home  to  find  the  picture 
of  his  divorced  wife  hanging  amiably  on  the 
wall  of  the  library,  after  he  has  carefully  con- 
signed it  to  retirement  in  the  farthest  corner  of 
the  attic." 

The  servant  nodded  an  emphatic  assent  to  the 
sarcasm. 

"Sure,  Miss,  I  know  he'll  like  it — oh,  yes!" 
10 


THE  SECOND  WIPE 

Her  voice  rang  with  a  note  of  half -melancholy 
mockery  as  she  made  agreement.  "Yes,  I 
guess  I  know  just  how  much  he'll  like  to  see 
it  there.  I'm  thinking  he'll  fall  down  dead  in 
a  fit,  when  he  catches  the  first  glimpse  of  it 
there,  and  then  I  '11  be  looking  on  myself  always 
as  his  murderer,  for  not  having  the  spunk  to 
take  it  down  before  he  comes." 

Willa  had  descended  the  step-ladder  the  while 
the  old  woman  spoke  thus  frankly.  Now,  she 
paused  at  its  foot,  regarding  Maria  with  eyes 
in  which  indignation  smoldered,  ready  to  flare 
into  a  flame  of  wrath. 

"Please,  remember,  Maria,"  she  said  in- 
cisively, "that  when  you  speak  of  that  photo- 
graph you  speak  of  my  mother. ' ' 

The  woman,  however,  failed  to  be  duly  im- 
pressed by  the  dignified  rebuke.  Instead,  she 
sniffed  with  open  contempt,  and  her  gaze  met 
that  of  the  girl  squarely,  aggressively. 

"Mother,  indeed!"  she  repeated;  and  there 
was  a  world  of  commiseration  sounding  in  the 
thin  voice,  and  her  eyes  softened  a  little. 

11 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Sure,  I've  been  your  mother  for  the  past  ten 
years — ever  since  she — "  she  waved  her  hand 
toward  the  photograph — "ever  since  your  real 
mother  went  off,  and  married  Mr.  Hendrix — 
the  old  pirate ! ' ' 

"Dear  me!"  Miss  Thomas  remarked,  with 
an  assumption  of  being  horrified  by  the  vehe- 
ment speech.  "What  a  term  to  apply  to  that 
estimable  gentleman!  Eemember,  Maria,"  she 
added,  with  an  imitation  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  girl  had  spoken  a  moment  before, ' '  that  you 
are  speaking  thus  disrespectfully  of  one  of  the 
most  important  and  richest  men  in  the  city  of 
New  York." 

The  servant  stretched  forth  a  gaunt  hand, 
in  a  gesture  of  scorn  that  was  not  without  a 
certain  rude  dignity  of  its  own;  and  the  dull 
eyes,  which  had  softened  for  a  little,  grew  hard 
again,  as  she  spoke. 

"Sure,  Miss  Edith,"  she  agreed;  and  her 
tone  was  bitter.  "Yes,  and  we  could  all  be 
rich,  if  we  could  contrive  to  keep  out  of  jail, 
no  matter  what  we  might  be  doing  of,  the  way 

12 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

he  can.  It  don't  matter  what  it  is  to  that  man. 
He  can  steal  money,  or  men's  wives;  and  it's 
all  the  same  to  him,  and  nobody  does  anything 
to  put  a  stop  to  his  carryings-on.  Tut!  tut!" 
she  remonstrated,  as  Willa  would  have  spoken. 
"Why,  you  can't  tell  me  anything  about  Mr. 
Hendrix.  I  know  enough  about  him,  and  the 
likes  of  him,  from  what  I  read  on  either  the 
front  page  or  the  back  page  of  the  poor 
folks'  Bible.  Sure,  he's  always  in  the  big 
type!" 

"Maria!"  Willa  cried,  in  quick  indignation 
before  this  denunciation  of  the  man  whose  lot 
her  mother  had  elected  to  share.  "I  forbid 
you  to  speak  of  Mr.  Hendrix  in  that  manner  in 
my  presence."  The  girl  uttered  the  command 
with  a  certain  assumption  of  dignity  that  be- 
came her  well.  But,  now,  as  she  concluded,  the 
sternness  of  her  attitude  relaxed  in  a  measure, 
and  a  note  of  entreaty  was  audible  in  the  soft 
voice.  "And,  Maria,  you  must  not  say  any- 
thing in  any  way  to  reflect  on  my  mother — you 
must  not !  My  father  himself  never  does — not 

13 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

a  word."  Her  inflection  seemed  to  convey  the 
idea  that  her  father's  position  in  the  matter 
as  the  one  person  most  concerned  left  no  right 
to  any  other  to  protest,  since  he  did  not. 

But  the  servant  was  not  impressed  to  the 
extent  expected  by  Willa,  if  at  all. 

''Sure,  and  why  should  he  be  saying  any- 
thing?" she  demanded,  pugnaciously.  She  ap- 
peared wholly  impervious  to  the  signs  of 
displeasure  displayed  by  the  girl.  It  was  evi- 
dent that  her  sympathies  were  warmly  engaged 
in  behalf  of  her  master,  and  that  she  had  no 
esteem  whatsoever  for  the  course  pursued  by 
her  former  mistress,  who  had  abandoned  mari- 
tal obligations  for  the  sake  of  another  man. 
"The  divorce  made  it  all  plain.  Your  pa's  got 
the  kid.  Well,  that's  all  there  is  to  it,  I'm 
thinking.  In  divorce  cases,  the  one  that  keeps 
the  kids  is  generally  in  the  right.  That 's  what 
the  judge  says." 

Miss  Thomas  felt  that  the  conversation  had 
gone  far  enough,  and  she  endeavored  to  divert 
the  old  woman's  attention  from  the  unpleasant 

14 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

topic.  With  this  laudable  purpose,  she  smiled 
engagingly,  and  began: 

"Maria  is  a  philosopher — " 

"I  don't  know  nothing  about  philosophers," 
interrupted  the  servant  tartly.  "But,  Miss 
Edith,  I  was  Mrs.  Hendrix's  maid  when  she 
was  Mrs.  Chase,  and,  as  long  as  keyholes  is 
keyholes,  servants  will  have  chances  a-plenty 
to  learn  all  they  need  to  about  all  the  goings-on 
in  the  house,  and  you  can  take  your  affidavit 
on  that,  any  day  in  the  week.  And  so  I  tell 
you,  Miss  Edith,  the  fact  is  that  Mr.  Chase  him- 
self never  wanted  a  divorce — that  was  the  last 
thing  he'd  have  thought  of.  No,  it  was  Mrs. 
Chase  was  the  one  that  wanted  it.  And,  be- 
cause she  wanted  her  freedom,  she  was  willing 
to  give  up  her  daughter.  That  was  the  condi- 
tion of  his  letting  her  have  the  divorce.  She 
was  willing  to  give  up  her  own  child,  just  so's 
she  would  be  free  to  marry  Mr.  Hendrix.  Two 
days  after  the  court  set  her  free,  she  married 
Mr.  Hendrix.  And  there  you  are!" 

While  the  denunciation  was  in  progress, 
15 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa  stood  tapping  one  slippered  toe  rapidly 
against  the  polished  floor.  The  dainty  rose  of 
her  cheeks  had  deepened  into  the  red  of  anger, 
but  she  knew  the  woman's  tenacious  loyalty  to 
her  father,  as  well  as  to  herself,  and  she  real- 
ized that  she  was  quite  powerless  to  stem  the 
impetuous  outburst.  But,  as  a  halt  came  at 
last,  she  felt  it  the  part  of  dignity  to  utter 
another  rebuke. 

"That  will  do,  Maria,"  she  commanded 
haughtily. 

The  servant  accepted  the  decree  without  any 
protest  whatsoever,  for  she  had  said  all  she  had 
to  say  at  the  moment  concerning  the  affairs  of 
the  family. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Miss  Willa?" 
she  questioned,  with  a  manner  of  bland  affabil- 
ity. 

"You  may  take  the  step-ladder  away,"  Willa 
directed.  She  strove  to  speak  coolly,  but  her 
voice  quivered  a  little.  The  scene  through 
which  she  had  just  passed  had  tried  her  nerves 
sorely,  for  she  cherished  an  ideal  affection  for 

16 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

her  mother,  which  was  doubtless  more  dominat- 
ing in  her  life  than  would  have  been  a  fondness 
constantly  worn  upon  by  the  frictions  of  every- 
day, intimate  association  with  an  ambitious  and 
wholly  worldly  woman. 

Maria  obediently  took  up  the  step-ladder,  and 
started  from  the  room  with  it.  But,  at  the 
door,  she  paused,  and  spoke  once  more,  em- 
phasizing her  words  with  a  nod  of  the  head 
toward  that  photograph  of  the  mother  and  child 
which  now,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  had  at  last 
been  restored  to  a  place  of  honor  in  the  home 
by  the  well-meant,  if  ill-directed,  filial  piety  of 
the  daughter. 

4 'Sure,  Miss,"  the  servant  said,  grimacing  a 
little,  "I'm  not  wishing  you  any  bad  luck,  but 
I'm  hoping  the  picture  tumbles  down.  That's, 
my  wish  for  it,  and  I  might  as  well  be  honest 
about  it." 

Willa  did  not  condescend  any  reply  to  this 
final  bit  of  impertinence  toward  her  mother, 
and  the  old  woman  bore  off  the  step-ladder  in 
triumph. 

17 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

But  Miss  Thomas  was  not  disposed  to  be  ret- 
icent concerning  the  affair. 

"Why  do  you  let  her  talk  to  you  in  that 
astonishing  way!"  she  demanded.  There  was 
a  hint  of  reproof  in  her  tone,  and  more  than  a 
hint  of  amusement.  Indeed,  the  interview  had 
entertained  her  hugely. 

The  young  girl  made  an  impulsive  gesture  of 
helplessness,  which  was  almost  pathetic. 

"Oh,  Edith,"  she  exclaimed  distressedly,  "I 
simply  can't  be  harsh  with  her.  It's  true,  you 
see,  that  she  really  did  most  of  my  bringing  up. 
Why,  she  even  used  to  spank  me.  I  suppose, 
like  enough,  I  deserved  it.  Perhaps,  even,  I 
deserved  more  than  I  got.  Well,  somehow,  af- 
ter a  person  has  once  spanked  you,  you  can't 
order  her  about." 

Miss  Thomas  burst  into  a  peal  of  laughter, 
and  nodded  vigorous  assent. 

"Yes,  yes;  I  know  just  how  it  is,"  she  agreed. 
"When  I  reached  your  age,  I  made  mother  fire 
my  maid.  I  never  dared — well,  I  couldn't  sit 
down  comfortably  in  her  presence,  and  that's 

18 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

a  fact.  The  act  recalled  certain  memories, 
certain  sensations  not  exactly  pleasant  for  a 
young  lady  on  her  dignity  as  a  debutante,  like 
myself.  So,  Nora  had  to  go.  She  was  a  good 
maid,  but  the  association  of  ideas  spoiled  her 
usefulness  from  my  point  of  view."  The 
speaker's  eyes  went  again  to  the  picture  that 
had  served  as  the  bone  of  contention  between 
Willa  and  the  servant,  and  she  changed  the 
subject  abruptly.  "You  were  a  skinny  little 
gawk  then,  weren't  you,  dear?"  she  questioned 
carelessly. 

But  Willa  received  this  description  of  her 
juvenile  appearance  with  much  disfavor,  and 
forgot  her  manners  so  far  as  to  contradict, 
flatly. 

"I  was  not!"  she  declared,  curtly.  "What 
an  absurd  idea!"  Then,  as  she  studied  the 
picture,  indignation  died,  and  in  its  stead  came 
a  rush  of  self-pity.  She  was  swayed  to  a 
sudden,  keen  commiseration  for  that  pictured 
child  there,  neglected  then,  afterward  left 
alone  by  the  handsome  woman,  who  had  chosen 

19 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

to  desert  husband  and  daughter  at  the  call  of 
worldly  pride,  who  had  voluntarily  abandoned 
the  home  that  was  merely  well-to-do,  in  order 
to  become  mistress  of  the  many  magnificent 
Hendrix  establishments,  the  mansion  in  town, 
the  castle  in  the  country,  the  Adirondack  lodge, 
the  Newport  cottage,  together  with  all  that 
these  entailed  of  luxurious  living  and  of  social 
prestige. 


20 


CHAPTER  II 

A   MODERN    CHILD 

WILLA  CHASE  was,  in  truth,  very,  very 
young.  She  was  by  far  too  young  to 
have  reflected  with  efficient  purpose  on  the 
curious  position  into  which  she  had  been  thrown 
by  the  legal  grind  of  the  divorce  mill ;  too  young 
to  see  in  herself  a  type  of  the  ultra  modern, 
and,  too,  despite  all  the  circumstances  that 
tended  to  mitigate  her  condition,  a  piteously 
placed  child  of  ill  fortune;  too  young  to  be- 
hold in  herself  the  miserable  half-orphan  of 
the  law's  decree.  In  the  ten  years  of  her  life 
just  past,  years  of  the  utmost  importance  to  her 
in  the  plastic  impressionability  of  the  adoles- 
cent, she  had  had  none  save  her  father  to  whom 
to  turn  for  intimate  guidance.  Often  and 
often,  his  companionship  failed  her  need, 

21 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

through  no  fault  of  his.  The  multitudinous 
crises  of  girlhood  require  the  sympathy  of  a 
woman  for  their  adequate  direction.  Mr. 
Chase  did  his  best,  for  he  was  a  man  of  sense 
and  of  sensibility,  and  he  loved  his  daughter 
devotedly.  Unhappily,  the  limitations  of  sex 
shut  him  out  from  his  child's  confidence,  where 
help  was  most  essential  to  her  well-being.  In 
those  emergencies  in  which  she  craved  the  un- 
derstanding and  kindliness  that  only  woman, 
can  give  to  woman,  Willa  was  compelled  to  go 
her  way  alone  and  uncomforted,  or  to  turn  for 
such  measure  of  relief  as  might  be  offered  by 
the  wholly  willing,  but  wholly  incompetent,  old 
servant,  Maria.  Naturally,  then,  this  girl,  bud- 
ding into  the  flower  of  womanhood,  had  been 
curiously  lonely  often,  as  no  child  should  ever 
be  lonely.  Yet,  through  all  the  sadness  and 
the  difficulties  that  encompassed  her  youth,  she 
had  never  thought  to  blame  the  mother  who 
had  so  ruthlessly  put  her  aside,  since  she  stood 
in  the  path  of  ambition.  On  the  contrary, 
Willa  had  let  her  imagination  extol  the  absent 

23 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

woman.  She  cherished  an  ideal  that  was  alto- 
gether admirable,  but  altogether  untrue  to  the 
facts.  It  could  not  be  said  that  she  loved  her 
mother,  for  the  association  between  them  had 
been  severed  too  early  to  permit  aught  on  which 
to  build  such  feeling  of  genuine  tenderness  in 
the  child.  But  she  regarded  the  renegade 
parent  with  loyal  admiration,  and  she  was 
deeply  impressed  by  the  social  achievements  of 
Mrs.  Hendrix.  It  would,  indeed,  have  been  re- 
markable, had  the  result  been  otherwise,  inas- 
much as  Willa  was  a  girl  possessed  of  alert 
mind  and  a  vivid  fancy.  Almost  daily,  the 
newspapers  gave  space  to  descriptions  of  func- 
tions wherein  her  mother  was  celebrated  as  a 
leader  of  society ;  numberless  times,  she  studied 
with  fond  pride  the  portraits  in  the  newspapers 
and  the  magazines,  of  the  handsome,  stately 
woman. 

But,  just  now,  there  was  no  feeling  of  pride 
and  exultation  over  the  absent  mother,  as  the 
girl  slowly  crossed  the  library,  and  stood 
quietly  for  a  little,  looking  out  upon  the  passers- 

24 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

by  in  the  street,  with  unseeing  eyes.  In  this 
moment,  there  came  to  her,  for  perhaps  the  first 
time,  a  realization  of  the  strange  and  evil  situa- 
tion in  which  her  mother's  selfishness  had 
placed  her,  from  which  there  could  be  no  escape. 
It  occurred  to  her  that  the  future  promised 
difficulties  beyond  any  the  past  had  known,  that 
there  awaited  complications  of  which  as  yet  she 
could  not  surmise  the  nature,  sinister  conse- 
quences still  to  grow  from  out  the  tangle  that 
divorce  had  twisted  about  the  life  of  a  child. 

The  trend  of  the  girl's  thought  was  empha- 
sized and  brought  home  by  the  casual  words 
of  Miss  Thomas: 

"Oh,  by  the  way,  Jack  Hendrix  has  offered 
to  paint  my  portrait.  Jack  has  opened  a  stu- 
dio, you  know.  That's  his  latest  freak!" 

"What!  Jack  Hendrix  has  a  studio?" 
Willa  exclaimed.  A  warm  flush  touched  her 
cheeks;  a  tender  smile  curved  the  scarlet  of 
her  lips. 

"Yes,"  Miss  Thomas  answered,  carelessly, 
without  perceiving  the  emotion  that  surged  in 

25 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

the  girl.  "You  see,  we  might  call  it  'Jack's 
Excuse/  The  fact  is  that  Jack  was  awfully 
anxious  to  paint  Clara's  portrait,  but — " 

"Yes — go  on,"  Willa  urged,  as  her  visitor 
paused,  to  smile  with  reminiscent  enjoyment. 

"Well,"  Miss  Thomas  resumed,  "the  trouble 
in  the  way  of  the  project  was  that  Clara's 
mother  knew  Jack.  Of  course,  that  knowledge 
settled  her  attitude  toward  any  plan  of  portrait- 
painting.  ' ' 

"Why,  Edith!"  Willa  cried,  reproachfully. 
There  was  an  indignant  sparkle  now  in  the 
limpid  eyes. 

Miss  Thomas  lifted  her  eyebrows  in  mild  as- 
tonishment at  the  sincerity  of  feeling  in  the 
girl's  remonstrance,  and  her  gaze  met  the 
other's. 

"Oh,"  she  said  easily,  "I  suppose,  perhaps, 
you  have  some  right  to  stare  at  me  with  a  flare 
in  your  eyes.  I  suppose  you  are  some  sort  of 
a  relation,  in  a  roundabout  way.  Since  you 
and  Jack  have  the  same  mother,  after  a  fashion 
of  speaking,  that  fact  must  make  you  related. 

26 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

However,  that  doesn't  alter  the  truth  of  the 
matter,  which  is  that  your  father  regards  this 
lively  young  man  in  just  about  the  way  Clara's 
mother  does." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Edith!" 

"Why,  just  conclusions  I  have  drawn  from 
the  circumstances  that  have  come  under  my 
observation.  4For  example,  I  don't  think  that 
I  have  ever  run  across  Jack  here  at  dinner,  at 
such  times  as  your  father  chanced  to  be  in 
town  and  dining  at  home.  ...  Of  course, 
there's  a  possibility  that  my  memory  may  be  at 
fault." 

Willa  frowned  disapproval  of  the  charge  thus 
brought  against  her ;  but  the  flush  in  her  cheeks 
grew  more  vivid,  swiftly. 

"Papa  is  horribly  prejudiced  in  some  re- 
spects," she  declared. 

Miss  Thomas  shrugged  her  shoulders,  in  in- 
dication of  an  unbiased  indifference. 

"And  yet,"  she  remarked,  with  a  smile  that 
was  almost  cynical,  "I'm  inclined  to  suspect 
that,  if  I  were  a  man,  and  my  worst  enemy  mar- 

27 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ried  my  wife,  two  days  after  the  divorce  was 
granted,  I  might  feel  a  bit  of  prejudice  against 
this  particular  man.  It  may  be,  too,  that  my 
bitterness  might  run  so  far  as  to  hold  somewhat 
against  this  man's  son — to  such  an  extent,  even, 
that  I  shouldn't  be  pleased  to  have  him  philan- 
dering around  my  daughter  very  much." 

Before  this  direct  attack,  Willa  realized  that 
discretion  might  be  .the  better  part  of  valor. 
Therefore,  she  maintained  silence  concerning 
the  point  in  casuistry  thus  raised,  the  while  her 
glances  roved  the  room  uneasily.  Then,  her 
eyes  came  to  a  rest  on  the  photograph  that 
she  had  rescued  from  the  oblivion  of  the 

attic,  and  at  once  she  laughed  with  genuine 

i 

merriment. 

1 1  It  will  be  a  surprise  to  papa  when  he  comes 
home,  and  finds  that  picture  hanging  there — 
such  a  surprise!" 

"Yes,  probably,"  Miss  Thomas  agreed,  and 
she,  too,  laughed,  but  somewhat  doubtfully,  as 
if  she  were  hardly  certain  as  to  the  agreeable 
nature  of  the  astonishment  destined  for  Mr. 

28 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Chase.  "Yes,  it  will  be  a  surprise,  beyond  any 
question.  But  I'm  afraid  he  won't  have  much 
pleasure  from  his  surprise." 

"Anyhow,  after  all,"  Willa  argued,  "she  is 
my  mother." 

"I  have  no  intention  of  disagreeing  with  you 
as  to  that  fact,"  Miss  Thomas  admitted  plac- 
idly. "Unfortunately,  however,  after  the  court 
has  given  you  into  the  custody  of  your  father, 
you  can't  go  traipsing  about  under  this  mother's 
chaperonage;  not  even  in  our  blessed  city  of 
New  York,  where  most  things  are  possible.  I 
believe  I'm  right  in  thinking  that  your  mother 
has  approached  you  with  some  such  plan. 
Hasn't  she?" 

The  girl  nodded  affirmatively. 

"Well,  dear,  believe  me,"  Miss  Thomas  con- 
tinued, with  more  earnestness,  "it  would  never 
do — -never!  When  all's  said  and  done,  the  fact 
remains  that  we  must  be  conservative,  to  some 
extent  at  least.  Now,  for  all  practical  pur- 
poses, you  see,  you  might  just  as  well  have  been 
born  in  an  incubator. 

29 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa  bounded  from  her  chair,  then  sank  back 
again  limply. 

"Edith!"  she  remonstrated,  weakly.  "You 
are  plain  horrid.  An  incubator!" 

Miss  Thomas  preserved  the  amiability  of  her 
usual  charming  smile,  but  an  expression  of 
earnestness  had  crept  into  the  brown  depths  of 
her  eyes,  and  there  was  a  sympathetic  note  of 
kindliness  in  her  voice  as  she  went  on  speak- 
ing: 

"Why  don't  you  make  your  father  marry 
again?"  she  suggested.  "I  know  that  Mr. 
Chase  would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you, 
Willa."  She  paused  for  a  moment;  and  then 
added,  softly  as  if  in  self-communion.  *  *  I  won- 
der if  he's  really  shy  with  women,  or  if  he's 
just  hard  to  please,  or  if  he  just  doesn't 
care." 

Something  in  the  manner  of  the  speech, 
rather  than  in  the  precise  significance  of  the 
words  themselves,  caught  the  girl's  attention, 
and  held  it.  For  a  brief  minute,  Willa  pon- 
dered, with  the  snowy  whiteness  of  her  brow 

30 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

wrinkled  in  puzzled  thought.  Then,  a  sudden 
instinct  told  her  the  reason  for  this  visitor's 
presence  there  with  her  and  the  trend  of  this 
talk  concerning  her  father's  marriage. 

" Edith!"  she  cried,  aghast.  There  was  a 
note  of  rising  anger  in  the  girl's  voice,  and  her 
eyes  began  to  glow  dangerously. 

"How  would  you  like  me  for  a  mother?" 
the  visitor  questioned,  gently.  She  was  well 
schooled  in  the  social  art  of  concealing  her  emo- 
tions under  any  and  all  circumstances,  but  in 
this  crisis  she  felt  the  color  burning  in  her 
cheeks,  and  her  gaze  fell  abashed  before  the 
lively  wrath  that  showed  clearly  in  the  girl's 
expression. 

Willa,  evidently,  was  not  minded  to  be  reti- 
cent concerning  the  outrageous  proposition  to 
which  she  had  just  listened.  Her  voice  quiv- 
ered with  anger  as  she  finally  began  to 
speak. 

"Edith,"  she  cried,  "I've  a  good  mind  to — 
to — "  She  halted,  groping  helplessly  for  an 
adequate  word. 

31 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

''Shake  me!"  Miss  Thomas  suggested,  with 
the  utmost  blandness  in  her  softly  modulated 
tones. 

"Yes,  shake  you!"  "Willa  stormed. 

But,  now,  Miss  Thomas  had  recovered  full 
control  of  herself.  Her  clear  laughter  rang  out 
a  cheery  protest  against  the  girl's  intensity. 

"Why  must  you  take  everything  so  seriously, 
Willa?"  she  demanded,  mockingly.  "You'll 
tear  your  feelings  to  tatters  before  you're 
settled  in  life,  if  you  don't  watch  out.  Besides, 
emotions  lead  to  wrinkles,  and  wrinkles  are  the 
worst  disaster  to  a  woman." 

In  the  presence  of  this  badinage,  Willa  felt 
herself  helpless,  and  she  remained  silent, 
though  still  fuming  inwardly.  Under  Miss 
Thomas's  skilful  manipulation,  calm  returned 
to  the  girl  little  by  little,  until,  presently,  she 
was  able  to  smile  again,  though  artificially. 
Then,  and  not  until  then,  did  the  visitor  choose 
to  revert  to  the  subject  of  Mr.  Chase's  second 
marriage. 


32 


CHAPTER  in 

THE   APPEABANCE   OP   MB.    HENDBIX 

IT  needed  no  close  inspection  to  perceive 
that  Willa  remained  angry.  She  was  ob- 
viously indignant  over  the  mere  suggestion  that 
her  father  might  marry  again.  The  idea  that 
the  absolute  sway  with  which  she  had  ruled  his 
heart  for  so  many  years  might  be  broken  by  the 
advent  of  a  step-mother  came  to  the  girl  with 
the  shock  of  a  surprise  at  once  totally  unex- 
pected and  totally  repulsive.  Her  resentment 
in  the  face  of  the  proposition  was  clearly  shown 
in  the  drawn  lips  and  flashing  eyes  and  mantling 
flush.  Miss  Thomas,  being  a  woman  of  discre- 
tion, had  decided  that  this  was  no  fit  occasion 
for  exploiting  her  secret  matrimonial  purposes. 
On  the  instant,  she  had  diplomatically  changed 
her  manner  in  such  wise  as  to  give  the  impres- 
sion that  she  had  but  jested  in  mentioning  a 

33 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

subject  that  so  distressed  her  friend.  So,  pres- 
ently, she  laughed  lightly,  in  her  usual  musical 
fashion,  and  spoke  gaily : 

"Well,  then,"  she  exclaimed,  with  a  note  of 
mock-resignation  in  her  voice,  "if  I  can't  have 
him,  I  can  still  continue  to  admire  him  from  a 
respectful  distance.  Eeally,  Willa,  there's  no 
other  man  whom  I  admire  half  so  much  as  I  do 
your  father.  You  don 't  appreciate  by  any  man- 
ner of  means  what  a  treasure  he  is." 

The  girl  was  appeased  quickly  by  the  seem- 
ing candor  of  the  speaker.  The  frown  passed 
from  her  brows,  and  the  tense  lines  of  the  mouth 
relaxed.  In  a  moment,  the  half-insolent  smile 
of  youth  in  its  pride  curved  her  lips. 

"He  appreciates  me,"  she  said,  demurely. 

"Father  has  told  me  that  Mr.  Chase  was  al- 
ways an  optimist,"  Miss  Thomas  remarked, 
amusedly. 

"Tell  me,"  Willa  commanded. 

"They  went  to  school  together,  you  know," 
the  older  woman  continued,  reminiscently ; 
"your  father,  my  father,  and  Mr.  Hendrix. 

34 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Mr.  Hendrix  wasn't  too  scrupulous,  even  as 
early  in  life  as  that.  He  used  to  buy  examina- 
tion papers." 

Willa  straightened  in  her  chair,  with  a  move- 
ment of  consternation.  The  power  and  the 
wealth  of  this  man  had  made  much  appeal  to 
her  naive  imagination,  and,  too,  there  was  about 
him  a  certain  romantic  glamour,  since  he  had 
been  able  to  win  her  mother.  Now,  this  revela- 
tion as  to  the  dishonest  nature  of  the  magnate 
in  his  boyhood  shocked  her  by  the  abrupt  shat- 
tering of  an  ideal. 

"To  buy  examination  papers ?"  she  repeated, 
incredulously.  "You  mean,  to  cheat?" 

Miss  Thomas  nodded  an  affirmative. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  she  declared.  "Why,  your 
father  licked  him  for  it  once.  Didn't  he  ever 
tell  you  about  it?" 

"Not  a  word." 

"It's  an  interesting  story,  all  right.  You 
ought  to  hear  dad  tell  it!  You  see,  all  three 
of  them  were  in  love  with  your  mother,  even  as 
far  back  as  their  schooldays." 

35 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"All  three  of  them!"  Willa  exclaimed,  with 
profound  interest. 

"Yes,"  Miss  Thomas  affirmed,  with  a  nod  for 
emphasis.  "And  she  must  have  been  a  beauty 
then.  Thank  heaven,  dad  was  homely  and  red- 
headed! So,  he  was  soon  out  of  the  running. 
Then,  the  story  of  how  your  father  thrashed 
Mr.  Hendrix  got  out,  and  the  reason  for  it,  and 
public  opinion  was  such  that  your  mother  had 
no  us«  for  the  cheat.  That  left  only  your 
father  still  in  the  lists.  I  suspect  that  your 
mother  had  a  change  of  heart  later  on  in  life, 
when  she  came  to  realize  that  Mr.  Hendrix 's 
method  of  passing  his  examination  was  merely 
an  early  outbreak  of  the  same  kind  of  genius 
that  has  made  him  a  master  in  high  finance." 

But  Willa  was  not  minded  to  regard  these 
revelations  in  any  frivolous  spirit.  The  pass- 
ing of  fond  illusions  was  sharply  painful  to  her 
sensitive  heart. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  she  now  demanded 
intensely,  "that  mother  knew  the  facts — that 
mother  really  knew  he  cheated?" 

36 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Why,  of  course,"  Miss  Thomas  declared, 
placidly.  She  was  thoroughly  enjoying  this  in- 
timate gossip  with  the  girl  concerning  subjects 
of  such  interest.  "Everybody  knew  about  the 
affair  at  the  time.  He  wasn't  rich  then;  so,  of 
course,  nobody  had  the  slightest  hesitation  in 
calling  the  thing  by  its  right  name. ' ' 

Willa  vouchsafed  no  comment  on  this  bald 
statement,  although  Miss  Thomas  paused  as  if 
in  expectation  of  some  response.  The  girl  sat 
staring  intently  at  the  pattern  of  the  rug  with 
unseeing  eyes,  the  while  she  contemplated  dis- 
mally the  fact  that  this  contemptible  action  had 
characterized  the  past  of  the  man  who  had  mar- 
ried her  mother.  Her  own  instinctive  ideal 
caused  her  to  revolt  against  the  course  of  a 
woman  who  could  voluntarily  choose  as  hus- 
band a  man  thus  dishonorable  in  preference  to 
her  sterlingly  honorable  father,  against  whose 
integrity  none  had  ever  uttered  the  least  whis- 
per. 

A  diversion  was  offered  in  the  person  of  old 
Maria,  who  appeared  in  the  doorway,  and  at- 

37 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

tracted  attention  by  a  monitory  cough.  Willa 
aroused  herself  from  the  fit  of  melancholy  ab- 
straction, and  turned  her  eyes  on  the  servant. 

"What  is  it,  Maria?"  she  inquired,  indiffer- 
ently. 

"Mr.  Hendrix  has  called,"  the  old  woman  an- 
nounced, with  an  air  of  importance. 

Willa  sprang  to  her  feet  impulsively.  Once 
again,  the  warm  blood  surged  in  her  cheeks. 
The  sadness  that  marked  her  expression  a  mo- 
ment before  had  vanished.  In  its  stead  was 
a  lively  cheerfulness  in  the  shining  eyes  and  in 
the  curving  crimson  of  the  lips.  Then,  suddenly 
making  an  effort  toward  discretion  as  she 
realized  that  the  eyes  of  both  Miss  Thomas  and 
the  servant  were  fixed  upon  her  with  feminine 
curiosity,  she  spoke  with  an  assumption  of 
casual  interrogation: 

"Mr.  Jack  Hendrix?"  she  questioned.  But 
there  was  no  doubt  in  her  inflection. 

"No,  Miss,"  came  the  astonishing  answer; 
"it's  Mr.  Hendrix— the  father." 

Willa  stiffened  in  the  extreme  of  amazement. 
38 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Such,  a  visit  was  extraordinary  beyond  belief. 
Miss  Thomas,  too,  appeared  astounded  by  the 
event.  Maria  smirked  contentedly  over  the 
sensation  her  announcement  had  created. 

"To  see  me?"  the  girl  demanded,  in  puzzled 
dismay. 

"He's  come  to  tell  you  that  you're  to  let  his 
precious  Jack  alone,  I  suppose,"  Miss  Thomas 
suggested.  Again,  her  laughter  rang  out. 

Maria  smiled  in  sympathetic  enjoyment. 

"He  asked  for  Mr.  Chase  first,"  she  ex- 
plained. "I  told  him  the  master  wasn't  at 
home.  So,  then,  he  asked  to  see  you,  Miss 
Willa." 

"Very  well,  Maria,"  the  wondering  girl  said. 
"You  may  show  him  up." 

Miss  Thomas  turned  to  Willa  as  the  servant 
left  the  room. 

"Your  father's  been  West  for  three  months, 
hasn't  he?"  she  asked. 

"Yes,  for  three  months,  and  a  little  more. 
I  positively  refused  to  go  out  there  with  him, 
and  to  be  cooped  up  in  a  little  forsaken  country 

39 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

village  for  all  that  while.  It's  all  about  his  lat- 
est invention — something  about  steel  and  elec- 
tricity. The  one  makes  the  other,  somehow; 
the  other  makes  the  one,  or  something.  Do  you 
understand?" 

"Oh,  certainly/'  replied  Miss  Thomas,  with 
a  smile.  "It  seems  quite  simple,  doesn't  it? 
And  it's  very  interesting." 

"Mr.  Hendrix,"  announced  the  voice  of 
Maria  from  the  door. 

Willa  looked  up  with  a  swift,  eager  scrutiny 
at  the  man  who  now  advanced  toward  her,  for 
until  this  instant  she  had  never  seen  him.  His 
pictured  face  and  form  had  been  made  familiar 
to  her  in  the  newspapers  and  magazines,  but 
these,  she  knew,  must  fail  in  adequate  inter- 
pretation of  a  personality  as  forceful  as  his. 
Now,  at  last,  she  saw  face  to  face  the  man  who 
had  thrust  her  father  from  his  rightful  place, 
the  man  who  by  some  potent  spell  had  won  her 
mother  from  her  home.  Now,  into  her  very 
presence,  was  come  this  colossus  of  the  money 
realm,  by  whose  magic  her  mother  had  been 

40 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

transplanted  from  modest  affluence  into  a  life 
of  the  most  gorgeous  luxury,  a  life  of  supreme 
importance  from  the  standpoint  of  fashion. 
This  man  was  a  magician  in  the  world  of  af- 
fairs, dominant,  irresistible.  Moreover,  he  in 
his  enormous  strength  had  mastered  her 
mother,  who  herself  was  strong  in  character 
and  in  power  of  will.  .  .  .  There  was,  as 
well,  another  demand  for  attention  in  this  per- 
sonality here  introduced  into  her  presence: 
Mr.  Hendrix,  as  it  chanced  by  some  mocking 
quirk  of  fate,  was  the  father  of  a  son,  Jack. 
And  the  heart  of  the  girl  confessed  in  secret  to 
an  interest  in  this  young  man  that  was  apart 
from,  and  beyond,  the  pseudo-fraternal  relation 
imposed  by  the  law's  vagaries.  Indeed,  this 
visitor  loomed  before  her  as  the  very  arbiter 
of  destiny,  who  had  robbed  her  of  a  mother,  who 
might  yet  give  her  a  lover  to  assuage  that 
loss.  .  .  .  And  this  was  the  cheat  whom  her 
father  had  thrashed ! 


42 


CHAPTEE  IV 

FATHER   AND    SON 

THE  figure  presented  by  Mr.  Hendrix  was 
an  imposing  one,  as  he  now  stood  gazing 
with  cold,  gray  eyes  at  John  Chase's  daughter. 
His  form  was  tall,  and  it  appeared  robust  be- 
yond the  average  of  the  business  man.  But  the 
face  was  characterized  by  a  flabbiness  that  em- 
phasized the  largeness  of  the  somewhat  uneven 
features,  and  the  skin  was  of  an  unwholesome 
pallor.  The  closely  cropped  mustache  of  gray 
revealed  almost  bloodless  lips,  tightly  set  as  if 
in  a  habit  of  unrelaxing  purpose  toward  domina- 
tion. A  skilful  tailor  had  used  his  best  en- 
deavors to  modify  and  to  conceal  the  rather 
unwieldy  bulk  of  the  financier's  body.  The  cut 
and  set  of  the  rich,  dark  material  of  the  suit 
gave  a  certain  touch  of  external  elegance  to  the 

43 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

whole  appearance;  but  this  was  offset  by  the 
capitalist's  personal  fondness  for  conspicuous 
adornment,  which  was  exhibited  in  massive  ar- 
ticles of  jewelry — a  big  cluster  of  diamonds  in 
the  scarf,  a  huge  ring  set  with  emeralds  and 
diamonds  on  his  little  finger,  a  flaunting  orna- 
ment on  the  watch-chain  that  crossed  the  waist- 
coat. 

Mr.  Hendrix  nodded  his  head  curtly,  in  a 
greeting  of  scant  formality. 

"Glad  to  meet  you,  Miss  Chase/'  he  re- 
marked, with  an  amiable  inflection,  but 
brusquely.  "I  used  to  know  your  father  very 
well." 

Somehow,  the  whole  manner  of  the  man  was 
of  a  sort  to  excite  a  lively  sense  of  antagonism 
in  the  girl  whom  he  addressed.  Now  that  the 
first  flutter  of  the  excitement  aroused  by  the 
unexpectedness  of  the  visit  had  passed,  she 
found  herself  entirely  self-possessed,  but  with 
a  strong  feeling  of  repulsion  against  the  man 
whose  life  had  so  vitally  touched  her  own. 

"I  never  heard  my  father  speak  of  you,"  was 
44 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

all  the  answer  she  vouchsafed  to  the  visitor's 
statement ;  and  the  tone  of  the  utterance  was  by 
no  means  affable. 

Miss  Thomas  interposed  suavely,  with  a 
subtle  malice,  for  she  was  thoroughly  enjoying 
the  curious  situation  that  had  arisen. 

"Perhaps,  though,  Willa,"  she  remarked, 
"you  have  heard  of  Mr.  Hendrix  through  your 
mother. ' '  Her  smile  pointed  the  words. 

The  girl  flushed  hotly;  but,  in  the  end,  she 
tilted  her  chin  haughtily,  and  nodded  in  assent. 
As  to  the  visitor,  however,  he  displayed  no  least 
hint  of  the  embarrassment  that  must  have  as- 
sailed a  person  of  more  delicate  susceptibilities 
before  an  allusion  so  intimate. 

"Yes,  exactly,"  he  said  blandly;  "just  so — 
through  your  mother,  of  course."  He  turned 
with  a  ponderous  smile  toward  the  woman  who 
had  made  the  suggestion,  and  recognized  her 
for  the  first  time.  "Oh,  it's  Miss  Thomas,"  he 
exclaimed,  and  bowed.  ' '  Glad  to  see  you,  Miss 
Thomas.  And  how  are  you,  to-day  I" 

"Why,  thoroughly  entertained,  thank  you," 
45 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

was  the  amused  reply;  and  the  young  woman 
laughed  openly. 

For  the  moment,  Hendrix  displayed  a  slight 
trace  of  confusion  before  Miss  Thomas's  rail- 
lery. He  coughed  nervously,  as  he  considered 
his  next  remark. 

"I  just  dropped  in  to  see  your  father  for 
a  few  minutes,  Miss  Chase,"  he  announced,  at 
last.  ''I  particularly  wished  to  have  a  little 
talk  with  him,  if  possible,  on  a  business  matter. 
Or,  if  I  couldn't  do  that,  why,  at  least,  I  could 
leave  my  congratulations  for  him." 

This  announcement  impressed  the  girl  as  in- 
dicative of  a  gracious  action,  and  one  deserving 
a  gracious  reception.  So,  she  smiled  on  the 
visitor  with  an  amiability  of  manner  that  had 
not  marked  her  hitherto  during  the  interview. 

"  Father  wrote  to  me  that  his  invention  would 
be  a  great  success,"  she  said,  brightly.  "But 
I  didn't  know  that  the  facts  about  it  had  been 
given  out  yet." 

Hendrix  smiled ;  and  there  was  an  ambiguous 
expression  in  the  turn  of  the  bloodless  lips. 

46 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"My  congratulations  must  be  double,  of 
course,  my  dear  Miss  Chase,"  he  said,  grimly. 
"I  have  to  congratulate  him  on  both  his  inven- 
tion and  on  his  marriage. ' ' 

At  this  amazing  declaration  on  the  part  of 

her  visitor,  "Willa  straightened,  her  form  grew 

v* 
tense,  her  eyes  expanded  in  wonder,  her  hands 

clenched,  her  lips  parted.  In  the  shock  of  the 
revelation,  she  could  with  difficulty  stammer  a 
single  word  of  interrogation: 

' '  Mar — married 1 ' ' 

"Good  gracious!  Now,  what  do  you  think 
of  that?"  Miss  Thomas  cried  excitedly,  at  the 
same  moment.  ' '  Married ! ' ' 

Hendrix  coughed  a  second  time,  to  conceal  a 
smile  of  cynical  amusement  which  the  emotion 
of  his  two  hearers  caused  him. 

"I  had  supposed,  of  course,  that  you  had 
heard  the  report  of  your  father's — " 

"Such  a  report  is  the  height  of  absurdity!" 
Willa  interrupted,  with  angry  vehemence. 

"Anyhow,  it's  fortunate  that  I  hadn't  written 
him  of  my  generous  plans  in  his  behalf,"  Miss 

47 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Thomas  said.  She  had  meant  to  give  the  words 
an  inflection  of  farcical  regret ;  but,  despite  her 
intention,  they  sounded  tart. 

"You  silly!"  Willa  retorted. 

"Yes;  the  blow  is  altogether  too  much  for 
me,"  Miss  Thomas  continued,  with  more  suc- 
cess toward  a  tone  of  merriment.  "I'm  going 
home.  And  I'd  have  made  you  just  the  sweet- 
est sort  of  a  mother,  Willa  dear !  .  .  .  Aha, 
I  think  I'll  be  revenged  on  you,  after  all.  I'll 
steal  Jack  from  you." 

The  closing  words  had  been  provoked  from 
her  by  observing,  in  the  doorway  of  the  library, 
young  Mr.  Hendrix  himself,  burdened  with  a 
large  bunch  of  violets,  the  fragrance  from  which 
was  now  wafted  across  the  room  as  the  young 
gentleman  bowed  in  salutation.  Jack  had 
started  perceptibly  at  the  unexpected  sight  of 
his  father  in  this  house;  but,  beyond  that  in- 
voluntary movement,  he  appeared  determined 
to  ignore  the  older  man,  for  without  even  a 
second  glance  he  advanced  straightway  to  Willa, 
offering  the  bouquet. 

48 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  guess  I'm  stung  again,"  Miss  Thomas  de- 
clared, with  a  pout;  for  this  visitor  seemed  to 
have  eyes  for  the  girl  alone. 

"I  found  these  pretty  flowers  weeping  on 
the  Avenue,"  Jack  said,  whimsically;  "and  I 
thought  it  would  be  only  proper  kindness  to 
show  them  the  way  home. ' ' 

The  reward  for  this  gallant  speech  was  the 
prettiest  of  smiles  from  his  hostess. 

"I'll  put  them  along  with  those  other  wan- 
derers of  yesterday,"  she  promised,  moving 
gently  toward  the  door. 

But  the  young  man  detained  her,  eagerly. 

"It's  been  an  age  since  I  saw  you,"  he  said, 
dismally. 

"Nonsense!  It  was  yesterday,"  she  re- 
torted, with  another  radiant  smile. 

"Jack!" 

The  stentorian  exclamation  came  from  Hen- 
drix,  senior.  Thus  far,  he  had  watched  the 
scene  with  the  fires  of  anger  blazing  in  his  usu- 
ally cold  eyes.  Now,  unable  to  restrain  his  in- 
dignation longer  in  the  face  of  the  son's  refusal 

49 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

to  acknowledge  his  presence  in  the  room,  the  call 
came  as  a  shout. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  overlook  you,  dad,"  the  young 
man  replied,  placidly. 

"Keally!" 

"No,  really.'*  Jack  scrutinized  his  parent 
carefully,  with  a  calm,  intellectual  curiosity  of 
study.  "The  truth  is,  you  see,  that  I  delayed 
in  greeting  you  because  I  was  wondering — try- 
ing to  figure  out  just  what  you  could  be  doing 
in  this  house." 

"Well,  I  didn't  have  to  study  so  long  in  your 
case,"  the  father  retorted,  savagely. 

Jack  smiled  contentedly,  and  again  turned  to 
Willa. 

"Why  did  dad  come  to  see  you?"  he  ques- 
tioned. 

"You  flatter  me,"  was  the  disdainful  answer. 
•' '  He  came  to  see  father — to  congratulate  father 
on  being — being  married ! ' ' 

"Most  unfortunately,  I  did,  I  should  say," 
Hendrix  growled. 

Jack  turned  to  his  father,  reproachfully. 
50 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

He  was  thoroughly  ashamed  to  learn  of  such 
display  of  bad  taste. 

"I  agree  with  you — most  unfortunately,"  he 
interjected. 

"Well,  anyway,"  the  older  man  remarked, 
placatingly,  "Miss  Chase  tells  me  that  the  re- 
port is  quite  absurd — not  true,  she  seems  to 
think." 

"I  only  wish  it  were  true,"  Jack  sighed. 

"Oh,  how  unkind  you  are!"  Willa  ejaculated, 
pouting. 

'  *  Oh,  no — only  selfish.  You  see,  in  that  case, 
you'd  have  to  leave  here,  and  come  and  live 
with  us." 

At  this  audacious  declaration,  a  sudden  rush 
of  blood  turned  the  pallor  of  Hendrix's  cheeks 
to  purple. 

"Huh?"  he  demanded,  truculently.  "What 
the !" 

"Do  you  really  want  me?"  Willa  inquired, 
tantalizingly.  She  was  moved  to  mischievous 
enjoyment  of  the  father's  manifest  perturba- 
tion. 

51 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Do  I  want  you!"  Jack  repeated,  ecstat- 
ically. 

Hendrix  snorted  contempt,  but  contrived  to 
restrain  any  further  exhibition  of  his  feelings. 

"Come  on,  Jack,"  he  urged,  briskly.  "It's 
time  we  were  getting  down- town."  He  had  re- 
sumed his  accustomed  manner  of  calm  domin- 
ance. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  dad,"  the  son  replied, 
with  an  exaggerated  courtesy.  "Were  you 
waiting  for  me?  Eeally,  I  didn't  know  that. 
Of  course,  I  didn't  mean  to  detain  you — not 
for  a  moment.  Please,  go  right  ahead,  dad. 
Don't  think  of  delaying  yourself  for  me — not 
a  second."  He  strode  to  his  father's  side, 
seized  an  arm,  and  guided  his  discomfited 
parent  toward  the  door. 

"Good-morning,  Miss  Chase,"  Hendrix 
called  out  hastily,  as  he  was  swept  onward  by 
the  muscular  assistance  of  his  suave  son. 

"Good-morning,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  the  girl  said, 
sedately.  "I'll  tell  my  father  that  you  called 
to  see  him,  and  to  congratulate  him,  doubly." 

52 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Then,  as  the  magnate  came  to  the  door,  his 
way  was  suddenly  barred  by  the  old  servant. 

''The  telephone,  Miss  Willa,"  Maria  an- 
nounced; "long  distance." 

"Long  distance,"  Willa  repeated,  with  a 
quaver  of  excitement  in  her  voice.  "Why,  it 
must  be  father!  He  wrote  me  that  he  would 
telephone  from  Chicago,  on  his  way  home.  If 
you  care  to  wait,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  she  continued, 
turning  quickly  toward  the  financier,  "I'll  ask 
him  on  the  telephone  as  to  when  it  would  be 
convenient  for  him  to  have  an  interview  with 
you." 

"That's  very  kind  of  you,"  was  the  answer, 
spoken  with  pleased  alacrity.  "  If  it 's  possible, 
I'd  like  to  speak  to  him  over  the  wire.  I'm 
leaving  town  to-night  for  a  month,  and  it  will 
be  my  only  chance. ' ' 

Then,  as  the  girl  left  the  room  to  go  to  the 
telephone,  the  financier's  manner,  which  had 
been  most  affable  the  while  he  addressed  Willa, 
changed  with  surprising  abruptness.  He 
wheeled  swiftly,  to  face  his  son.  There  was  a 

53 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

tense  anger  now  in  every  line  of  his  face.  The 
closely  compressed  lips  were  more  pallid  than 
before;  his  eyes  had  taken  on  a  glitter  that 
was  more  dangerous  than  the  young  man  liked, 
although  he  managed  to  sustain  the  glare  un- 
flinchingly, as  he  waited  for  the  outbreak. 


CHAPTER  V 

AN   IRONIC    COMPLICATION 

DOUBTLESS,  Willa  Chase  had  suffered  an 
overwhelming  surprise  by  reason  of  the 
visit  to  her  father's  house  of  Tom  Hendrix, 
and  her  emotion  had  been  intensified  by  the 
report  brought  by  the  visitor  as  to  her  father's 
second  marriage.  But  it  may  be  believed  that 
her  amazement  over  the  happenings  of  the  day 
was  no  greater — if  indeed  as  great — than  that 
of  the  financier  himself,  who,  wholly  without 
warning,  had  turned  to  behold  his  son  and  heir 
present  in  this  house  of  an  enemy.  Moreover, 
the  young  man's  manner  permitted  no  uncer- 
tainty as  to  his  sentiments  in  reference  to  the 
charming  young  hostess.  Jack  had  posed 
openly  in  the  attitude  of  the  fond  lover, 
proffering  his  gift  of  flowers  with  the  most 
gallant  air  imaginable,  even  under  the  very 

55 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

eyes  of  an  outraged  parent.  Tom  Hendrix  was 
of  the  character  of  man  that  nurses  every 
grudge  persistently,  to  fatten  hatred.  His  was 
not  the  nature  to  flare  out  in  a  burst  of  wrath, 
and  then  have  done  with  it.  Instead,  he 
nourished  the  fires  of  anger  in  his  breast, 
fanned  them  repeatedly,  and  kept  them  glowing 
through  the  years.  So,  in  the  time  of  his  youth, 
when  John  Chase  had  thrashed  him  for  his 
contemptible  trickery  in  cheating  at  exami- 
nations in  order  to  win  a  prize  of  some  value 
to  him  in  those  days,  he  had  shown  little  resent- 
ment outwardly,  nor  had  he  fought  back  with 
much  spirit.  It  seemed,  indeed,  that  he  had  ac- 
cepted his  punishment  with  phlegmatic  endur- 
ance as  an  evil  that  was  not  to  be  avoided. 
Nevertheless^,  he  had  never  forgotten  the  in- 
dignity then  laid  upon  him.  Always,  he 
carried  in  his  heart  a  secret  resentment  against 
the  supple,  honest-eyed  boy  who  had  admin- 
istered to  him  the  chastisement  he  deserved. 
It  had  fretted  him  sorely  that  this  same  John 
Chase,  without  any  dishonesty  of  methods,  had 

56 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

won  his  way  to  a  record  of  brilliant  scholar- 
ship. In  addition,  he  felt  rancor  constantly 
over  the  fact  that  his  enemy  enjoyed  popularity 
with  their  companions,  both  boys  and  girls, 
which  was  most  unpleasantly  in  contrast  with 
his  own  comparative  isolation.  It  may  be,  in 
truth,  that  his  bitterness  against  his  school 
fellows  in  general,  and  against  John  Chase  in 
particular,  had  much  to  do  with  shaping  his 
course  in  life.  It  may  be,  he  perceived  that 
the  one  most  effective  method  of  revenge  on 
society  would  be  by  the  accumulation  of  such 
wealth  that  men  and  women  must  bow  in  defer- 
ence before  its  possessor.  With  the  realiza- 
tion that  money  is  power,  he  deliberately  set 
himself  to  the  amassing  of  riches.  He  suc- 
ceeded beyond  even  his  most  ambitious  expec- 
tations, and  he  found  himself  by  means  of 
money  in  that  mastery  of  his  fellows  which  he 
had  so  craved. 

One  product  of  his  achievement,  and  one  that 
gratified  him  beyond  all  others,  was  that  in  the 
end  he  had  come  into  possession  of  John 

57 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Chase's  wife.  His  first  and  chief  defeat  in 
life  had  come  about  by  reason  of  this  rivalry 
in  love.  It  had  been  on  account  of  this  little 
girl,  with  the  brilliant  complexion  of  cream 
and  roses  and  the  dimpled  mouth  and  laugh- 
ing eyes,  that  he  had  descended  to  trickery  in 
the  examinations.  He  had  desired  to  win 
honor  for  his  scholarship  in  her  estimation. 
But  the  result  had  been  that  he  was  discredited. 
The  exposure  ruined  his  chances  of  gaining 
the  girl's  heart  at  that  time.  Still,  he  never 
abandoned  the  idea  of  eventually  humiliating 
John  Chase.  When,  at  last,  in  the  period  of 
his  own  widowerhood,  he  perceived  that  John 
Chase's  wife  was  grown  a  worldly  woman,  with 
illusions  shattered,  and  with  the  lost  idealism 
of  middle  age,  he  understood  that  the  time  was 
ripe  for  action.  The  woman  was  longing  for 
the  luxuries  of  life.  He  could  give  them  in  all 
abundance.  So,  he  tempted  her  envious  desire, 
and  won  her  to  his  will. 

But,  by  so  much  as  he  had  triumphed  in  his 
projects  against  his  enemy  in  the  securing  of 

58 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

the  woman  after  years  of  waiting,  so,  now,  he 

was  confounded  and  dismayed  to  find  the  situ- 

t 

ation  of  affairs  such  as  it  was  revealed  by  his  , 
son's  presence  in  this  house.  To  his  wrathful 
chagrin,  he  found  Jack  openly  and  palpably 
appearing  as  the  devoted  suitor  for  the  favor 
of  the  daughter  of  the  man  whom  most  he  hated. 
In  the  face  of  this  catastrophe,  all  that  was  most 
determined  and  vicious  in  the  financier's  char- 
acter rose  to  the  surface,  and  actuated  his 
course. 

"Look  here,  Jack,"  he  declared  with  cold 
malignity,  as  Willa  hurried  from  the  room  to 
answer  the  telephone  call,  "you  must  know  that 
I  have  hated  John  Chase  ever  since  we  were 
boys  together.  I  wish  you  to  understand,  once 
for  all,  that  I  will  tolerate  no  foolishness  be- 
tween my  son  and  his  daughter.  Do  you  un- 
derstand that?" 

But  this  effort  to  repress  the  natural  inclina- 
tions of  the  young  man,  to  wile  him  from  fond- 
est contemplation  of  the  girl  who  had  taken 
the  chief  place  in  his  heart,  was  a  total  failure. 

59 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Jack  received  the  rebuke  without  any  evidence 
of  being  impressed  by  his  father's  wish  and 
command.  On  the  contrary,  he  laughed  in  the 
face  frowning  into  his. 

"Yes,"  the  irrepressible  young  man  declared, 
with  a  manner  of  bland  sarcasm,  "that  would 
be  taking  after  you  pretty  strong,  wouldn't  it? 
Oh,  yes,  I  admit  it.  You — "  he  tapped  his 
father  playfully  on  the  chest — "mother;  me — " 
he  indicated  himself  in  the  like  frivolous  fash- 
ion— "the  daughter.  Excellent  taste  we  have. 
"What?" 

Hendrix  growled,  resentfully. 

"Kemember  what  I've  said  to  you,"  he  di- 
rected; and  his  heavy  voice  was  menacing. 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  to  remember,"  Jack  declared, 
airily.  He  smiled  on  his  father,  as  if  wholly 
undisturbed  by  the  older  man's  sullen  disap- 
proval. 

The  idea  that  there  could  be  an  open  re- 
bellion against  any  wish  of  his  was  too  remote 
from  Tom  Hendrix 's  habit  of  thought  for  him 
to  grasp  readily.  So,  now,  Jack's  flippant  re- 

60 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

sponses  appeared  to  him  as  adequate  assur- 
ances that  his  will  would  be  obeyed.  He  turned 
away,  and  strolled  slowly  about  the  room,  re- 
garding the  affair  as  already  settled  in  ac- 
cordance with  his  wish.  His  cold  eyes  wan- 
dered over  the  walls  in  a  rather  contemptuous 
contemplation  of  his  defeated  rival's  library. 
He  seemed  impervious  to  the  atmosphere  of 
the  place,  that  created  by  the  long-continued 
occupancy  of  a  cultured  owner.  Then,  finally, 
his  gaze  chanced  to  fall  on  the  photographic 
portrait  of  his  wife  and  her  daughter,  which 
Willa  had  so  carefully  hung  but  a  few  minutes 
before  his  coming.  He  smiled  approval  with  a 
manner  of  self-satisfied  pride. 

4 'Nice  picture  of  my  wife,"  he  remarked, 
genially. 

Jack  Hendrix,  a  portrait-painter  of  much 
more  than  average  merit,  regarded  the  photo- 
graph critically.  Then,  his  expression  light- 
ened suddenly. 

"I  shouldn't  be  the  least  bit  astonished,"  he 
said  to  his  father,  with  an  air  of  intimate  confi- 

61 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

dence,  "if,  under  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  Chase  could  be  persuaded  to  let  you  have 
that  picture.  You'd  better  ask  him  for  it — 
nicely,  of  course." 

The  capitalist  wheeled  on  his  disrespectful 
son,  and  snorted  indignantly  at  this  persiflage 
concerning  the  domestic  complications  between 
himself  and  Mr.  Chase. 

* '  Huh  ? "  lie  demanded,  belligerently. 

But  Jack  deemed  it  prudent  to  vouchsafe  no 
direct  reply  to  the  grunt  of  inquiry.  He  drew 
back  a  little,  and  stood  staring  at  his  father 
with  eyes  that  twinkled  good-naturedly.  He 
put  his  arms  akimbo,  and  nodded  for  emphasis 
as  he  spoke: 

"Honest,  dad,"  he  said,  "I  do  admire  your 
nerve  in  coming  to  this  house  in  broad  day- 
light, considering  everything  that's  been  be- 
tween you  and  Chase." 

The  tribute  to  his  audacity  served  to  put  the 
father  in  excellent  humor  with  both  his  son 
and  himself.  He  patted  Jack  on  the  arm  re- 
assuringly. 

63 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  never  let  my  personal  feelings  interfere 
to  prevent  my  getting  the  best  of  everything 
in  business,  my  boy,"  he  announced,  with  an 
air  of  great  complacency.  "You  see,  Chase's 
new  invention  is  a  good  thing.  I  have  certain 
knowledge  to  that  effect,  Jack.  Now,  it  so  hap- 
pens that  I  want  that  invention.  I  need  it  in 
order  to  club  some  other  fellows  with. ' ' 

The  young  man  stared  at  the  speaker  with 
a  lively  and  half-admiring  curiosity. 

"But  why  did  you  choose  to  come  here  your- 
self?" he  inquired.  "I  can't  understand  why 
you  shouldn't  have  preferred  to  send  somebody 
to  represent  you  in  this  particular  case." 

But  Hendrix  was  confident  as  to  the  correct- 
ness of  his  course,  and  his  answer,  given  with- 
out a  particle  of  hesitation  or  embarrassment, 
was  convincing,  from  his  point  of  view : 

"Because,"  he  explained,  "Chase  would  have 
kicked  out  anybody  I  could  have  sent  to  repre- 
sent me  in  the  matter;  but  he  can't  very  well 
kick  Tom  Hendrix  out." 

Jack  made  no  comment  on  this  nai've  revela- 
64 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

tion  of  his  father's  methods  of  thought.  The 
subject  had  lost  its  interest  for  him.  His  mind 
had  gone  back  to  the  girl,  and  he  wandered 
toward  the  door  through  which  she  had  van- 
ished, with  hopeful  eyes  watching  for  her  re- 
turn. But,  presently,  a  new  thought  came  to 
him,  and  again  he  turned  to  address  his  father: 

"I  am  frank  to  admit,  dad,"  he  said  casually, 
"that  I  haven't  had  anything  like  one-tenth  of 
your  experience — but  I  fancy  that  even  I  could 
have  put  up  a  better  lie  than  that  congratula- 
tion of  yours  on  a  reported  second  marriage  by 
your  old  enemy." 

It  was  eminently  characteristic  of  the  mag- 
nate that,  while  he  had  no  least  objection  to  the 
use  of  duplicity  in  the  furtherance  of  any  busi- 
ness scheme,  he  at  times  chose  to  regard  him- 
self as  most  punctilious  in  truthfulness.  In- 
deed, the  habitual  liar  is  often  the  most  out- 
raged when  falsely  accused.  Now,  therefore, 
Hendrix's  pallor  again  became  surcharged  with 
purple,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  fiercely,  as  he  bent 
his  brows  on  the  offending  son. 

65 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

" Chase  is  married!"  he  snapped. 

Jack  started  in  genuine  amazement,  and  his 
forehead  wrinkled  perplexedly. 

"You  really  mean  it?"  he  questioned. 

"Certainly!  How  dare  you  question  my 
word,  sir?" 

"Well,  well,  this  is  a  surprise,"  Jack  mur- 
mured. His  astonishment  was  swiftly  giving 
place  to  wonder  concerning  the  effect  of  such 
a  union  on  his  own  most  cherished  dreams. 
It  occurred  to  him  that  the  new  menage  here 
might  serve  excellently  his  own  tender  inter- 
ests. 

"It  surely  looks  as  if  it  might  occasion  sur- 
prise in  some  quarters,"  Hendrix  agreed,  with  a 
chuckle  of  satisfaction,  as  he  recalled  Willa's 
demeanor  in  the  face  of  the  announcement. 

"Where  did  the  marriage  come  off?"  Jack 
asked.  "When  did  it  come  off?  Who's  the 
woman  in  the  case,  anyhow?" 

"Last  week — very  quietly — Lincoln,  Ne- 
braska. You  know  that  Chase  has  been  con- 
ducting experiments  there."  The  financier 

66 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

smiled  on  his  son  complacently,  and  winked 
the  wink  of  business  sapience.  "I  kept  tabs 
on  him,  Jacky,  my  boy." 

The  young  man  paused  contemplatively,  and 
regarded  his  father  vaguely.  Finally,  he 
smiled  in  retrospect. 

"Ah,  yes — Lincoln,"  he  said,  softly.  "I 
spent  a  summer  over  there,  three  years  ago. 
Some  of  those  Nebraska  girls  are  wonders,  all 
right.  Why,  one,  I  remember — " 

The  father  interrupted  with  a  laugh  of  cyn- 
ical raillery. 

"If  you  remember  her  for  three  years,"  he 
retorted,  "she  must  have  been  a  wonder!" 

"What  is  her  name?"  Jack  inquired  hastily,, 
to  divert  his  father's  attention  from  this  per- 
sonal theme.  "Chase's  wife's,  I  mean." 

Hendrix  paused  for  a  moment,  meditating. 
Then,  he  shook  his  head. 

"Oh,  I  haven't  any  idea,"  he  said,  at  last. 
"I  didn't  bother  about  that." 

"It's  rather  a  pity,  isn't  it?"  Jack  demanded. 
"You  see,  I  might  have  remembered  her." 

67 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Hendrix,  however,  neglected  the  humor  in  the 
suggestion.  He  was,  in  accordance  with  his 
custom,  giving  his  whole  attention  to  the  im- 
mediate project  in  view,  with  an  ability  of  con- 
centration that  was  one  of  the  chief  factors 
in  his  usual  success  with  affairs. 

"If  it  should  happen  that  you  do  know  her, 
Jack,"  he  remarked  seriously,  "you  see  to  it 
that  she  makes  Chase  sell  his  patent  to  me. 
She  could  probably  manage  it  easily  enough. 
A  new  wife  pulls  a  strong  oar." 

The  young  man  laughed  outright. 

"Of  course,  you're  an  authority  in  that  di- 
rection, dad,"  he  said,  while  his  eyes  twinkled. 
""But,  you  know,  I  haven't  your  fondness  for 
Chase's  invention." 

"No;  you  prefer  the  daughter,"  the  father 
retorted,  crisply. 

The  shot  found  its  mark,  and  the  young  man 
betrayed  evident  signs  of  confusion.  Never- 
theless, he  replied,  firmly  enough: 

"Yes,  certainly — the  daughter,  for  my 
choice."  Then,  he  was  at  pains  to  change  the 

68 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

subject  without  delay.  He  looked  sharply  into 
the  hard,  calculating  face  of  his  father.  "May 
I  ask,"  he  inquired  abruptly,  " which  of  your 
companies  'is  the  one  you  mean  to  have  buy 
Chase's  invention?" 

"National  Power,"  was  the  ready  answer. 

"National  Power,"  Jack  repeated,  musingly. 
"I  have  heard  that  name  before." 

"I  should  think  it  quite  possible,"  his  father 
retorted,  with  heavy  sarcasm.  "You  are,  I  be- 
lieve, the  second  vice-president  of  the  com- 
pany." 

"Oh,  so  I  am!"  Jack  admitted,  not  a  whit 
abashed.  At  the  indignant  disgust  revealed 
in  his  father's  expression,  the  youth  could  not 
forbear  smiling.  "I  tell  you,  dad,"  he  went 
on  blithely,  "it's  a  mighty  difficult  task  for  us 
busy  men  of  affairs  to  remember  all  of  our 
multitudinous  enterprises." 

"Busy!"  scoffed  the  magnate. 

"Yes,  busy,"  Jack  affirmed,  nonchalantly. 
"I  tell  you,  dad,  you  have  no  idea  as  to  the 
amount  of  work  I  do  in  a  day  of  only  twenty- 

69 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

four  hours.  .  .  .  Why,  think  of  all  I've 
done  already,  this  morning!" 

Hendrix  growled  remonstrance. 

"Bah!"  he  exclaimed.  "Picking  violets, 
that's  what  you've  done." 

"Well,  yes,  dad,"  Jack  admitted,  unblush- 
ingly.  "It  took  me  a  full  forty  minutes  to  get 
that  bouquet  just  right." 

The  older  man  sniffed  disparagingly. 

"Forty  minutes  to  buy  a  bunch  of  violets!" 
he  ejaculated.  He  waved  a  heavy  hand  majes- 
tically. "I,"  he  declared,  "could  have  bought 
a  whole  railroad  in  less  time." 

Jack  smiled  placidly  in  response  to  this  out- 
burst. 

"But  I  doubt  if  the  deal  would  have  smelled 
as  sweet,"  he  said. 

The  father  turned  away,  evidently  displeased 
by  his  son's  flippant  manner.  But,  after  a  lit- 
tle, he  approached  Jack  again,  and  spoke  with 
a  new  note  of  appeal  in  his  voice. 

"Jack,"  he  said  anxiously,  "won't  you  drop 
all  this  foolishness?  Won't  you  go  into  busi- 

70 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ness,  as  I  wish  you  to  do  ?  You  know,  my  boy, 
that  all  I'm  doing  is  really  for  you.  I  am  work- 
ing for  you,  Jack." 

"You  are!"  There  was  incredulity  in  the 
young  man's  tone.  He  laughed  a  little  as  he 
spoke  questioningly :  "Now,  are  you  really, 
dad?" 

"And  this,"  Hendrix  grumbled,  "is  my 
son!" 

"Now,  dad,  that's  boasting!"  came  the  de- 
bonair riposte.  "Beally,  you  shouldn't  boast 
of  me  in  that  way.  Why,  I — well,  I  never 
boast  of  you,  you  know." 

"Bah!"  the  father  ejaculated,  testily. 

"Seriously,  don't  you  see,  dad,"  the  young 
man  protested,  "you  are  kidding  yourself — 
honestly,  you  are!  But  you  can't  kid  me. 
You  are  not  working  for  me,  not  a  bit  of  it. 
You  are  working  all  the  time  for  Tom  Hen- 
drix,  and  for  Power — with  a  capital  P!  And 
you  know  it,  too." 

"Not  at  all,  not  at  all!"  blustered  Hendrix. 
"Why,  I've  put  you  in  on  any  number  of  good 

71 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

things  already.  And  what's  my  reward?  You 
don't  even  know  the  names  of  the  companies 
you're  an  officer  in!" 

Young  Hendrix  laughed,  defensively. 

''Oh,  yes,  I  do,"  he  declared;  "yes,  actually. 
See  here."  He  drew  forth  a  small,  red  book. 
"I  have  written  them  all  down  in  my  little 
memorandum  book  here — no,  here."  He 
quickly  reversed  the  tiny  volume,  smiling  as  he 
did  so.  "  Here  they  are.  Shall  I  pass  them  to 
you?" 

"He's  put  them  down  in  a  book!"  the  father 
groaned.  "And  that's  as  far  as  he's  got. 
,  .  .  Now,  honestly,  Jack,  what  do  you  want 
to  do?  Tell  me ;  and  I'll  start  you  in  whenever 
you  like." 

At  this  moment,  Hendrix,  senior,  received  a 
surprise  that  impressed  him  mightily,  for  it  put 
his  son  in  a  wholly  new  light.  The  young  man 
placed  a  hand  affectionately  on  his  father's 
shoulder,  and  stared  straight  into  the  cold  eyes. 

"But  that's  just  what  I  don't  want  you  to 
do,  dad,"  he  announced.  "You  can't  start  me 

72 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

in  anything.  You  see,  I'm  tired  of  being  just 
somebody's  son.  That's  why,  since  I  came  into 
a  little  money  from  mother,  I  have  tried — and 
tried  seriously — to  be  an  artist.  And  I  guess 
you  won't  claim  that  I  got  anything  from  you 
on  that  side."  Jack  stood  away  from  his 
father,  and  his  usual  insouciant  manner  of 
speech  characterized  his  next  utterance.  ' '  Say, 
dad,"  he  demanded,  "did  you  ever  see  any  of 
my  pictures?" 

"Yes,"  came  the  reply  from  Hendrix;  but 
there  was  no  hint  of  encouragement  in  the  «risp 
monosyllable. 

"What  did  you  think  of  them?" 

"I  don't  think  you'll  put  many  photographers 
out  of  business,"  came  the  short  reply. 

At  this  juncture,  the  return  of  Willa  Chase 
brought  to  a  close  the  agreeable  interview  be- 
tween father  and  son. 


74 


CHAPTER  VI 

MIXED   RELATIONS 

^T~T  wasn't  father,"  said  the  girl,  entering. 

-•-  "It  was  a  message  from  him  through  a 
friend  in  Chicago,  and  he  will  be  home  to-day." 

"Bringing  you  a  new  mother?"  asked  Jack, 
jocularly. 

"The  idea  of  such  a  thing!"  Willa  cried,  in- 
dignantly. 

"Well,  well,"  Hendrix  said,  "I  will  com- 
municate with  him.  Good-by,  Miss  Chase." 

"Good-morning,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  the  girl  re- 
plied. 

The  financier  turned  inquiring  eyes  toward 
Jack,  but,  finding  in  his  son's  gaze  an  emphatic 
refusal  to  accompany  him,  he  bowed  and  started 
to  leave  the  room. 

"Oh,  dad!"  called  Jack.  "On  your  way 
75 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

down,  will  you  stop  at  the  office  of  the  National 
Power  Company,  and  tell  them  that  the  second 
vice-president  will  not  be  down  to-day.  He  is 
very  busy,  trying  to  amalgamate  with  a — " 
Jack  laughed  and  glanced  toward  "Willa — "well, 
with  a  very  attractive  proposition." 

"Huh!"  Hendrix  ejaculated,  and  forthwith 
left  the  room. 

Then,  Jack  turned  to  the  girl,  a  little  apolo- 
getically. 

"You  know,"  he  said,  "dad  is  the  finest  fel- 
low in  the  world — when  you  don't  oppose  him." 

"And  my  dad,"  said  Willa,  "is  always  op- 
posing him!" 

Young  Hendrix  tactfully  avoided  a  continu- 
ance of  the  conversation  on  these  lines.  In- 
stead, he  looked  around  the  room  with  an  ap- 
proving eye. 

"Jolly  old  library,  this,"  he  said,  in  appre- 
ciation of  the  rare  prints,  the  fine  old  furnish- 
ings and  the  handsome  books,  with  the  evidence 
of  their  worn  bindings  to  prove  that  they  were 
really  read.  "I  wish  I  could  come  oftener." 

76 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

At  that,  the  girl  turned  away,  and  then  said 
slowly : 

"You  can't  come  at  all,  after  to-day." 

"That's  absurd,"  Jack  retorted  quickly. 
"Why?" 

"Why,  I  told  you,"  Willa  declared.  "My 
father  comes  home  to-day." 

Impatience  that  was  almost  anger  came  over 
the  young  man.  "What  has  that  to  do  with 
it  ? "  he  remonstrated.  *  *  We  are  not  Montagues 
and  Capulets." 

This  modern  girl  had  the  humor  to  smile  at 
his  suggestion  of  tragedy.  She  shook  her  head 
prettily,  and  laughed. 

"No,"  she  said,  "it  is  utterly  inconceivable 
— your  taking  poison  for  anybody ! ' ' 

Jack  laughed  with  her,  but  then  thoughtfully 
said: 

"Seriously,  though,  you  know  it  is  a  shame 
that  your  father  and  my  father  hate  each  other 
so.  We — you  and  I,  you  know — are  such  un- 
commonly nice  people  ourselves!"  He  caught 
the  girl's  hand,  and  patted  it. 

77 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"They  have  hated  each  other  a  long  time," 
Willa  said,  dubiously. 

"How  long?"  he  asked. 

"Ever  since  they  went  to  school  together." 
Whatever  remnant  of  childishness  was  left  in 
the  girl  asserted  itself  then.  "Yes,"  she  said, 
proudly, ' i  and  my  father  thrashed  your  father. ' ' 

"Good  gracious!  He  did,  eh?"  laughed 
Jack,  willing  to  pass  the  matter  over  pleasantly. 
But,  after  all,  he  was  not  much  more  than  a 
boy  himself.  With  a  flash  of  family  pride,  he 
asserted :  "Well,  it's  the  only  time  he  ever  did 
beat  him  at  anything!" 

"I  have  heard  terrible  things  about  your 
father  lately,"  Willa  rejoined. 

But  Jack  had  regained  his  saving  humorous 
view  of  things. 

1 1  How  did  your  father  come  to  lick  my  dad  1 ' ' 
he  asked. 

"He  licked  him,"  declared  Willa,  virtuously, 
"for  buying  examination  papers." 

Jack  flashed  up  his  hands  in  horror. 

"How  awful!"  he  cried. 
78 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  didn't  like  to  tell  you,"  began  Willa,  com- 
miseratingly. 

"No;  you  were  right  to  tell  me,"  was  the 
answer,  with  mock  seriousness.  "But  he'd 
never  do  that  nowadays." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  has  improved,"  Willa  agreed. 

"Goodness,  yes,"  answered  Jack.  "Nowa- 
days, he  would  bribe  the  teacher." 

"Mr.  Hendrix!"  the  girl  remonstrated,  with 
a  touch  of  bitterness. 

He  caught  her  hand  as  she  turned  away. 

"I  thought  we  had  agreed  on  'Jack.'  " 

"Not  when  you  uphold  dishonesty!"  was  the 
spirited  retort. 

"I  don't  uphold  dishonesty,"  Jack  replied 
earnestly.  "Is  it  my  fault  that  my  father  is  as 
he  is?"  He  made  a  gesture  of  helplessness. 
"He  was  here  before  me.  I  didn't  make  his 
character;  I  merely  accept  conditions." 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  she  said,  critically;  "you 
merely  accept.  I  do  not  like  people  who  merely 
accept.  I  like  a  master — " 

Jack  stared  at  the  speaker  contemplatively 
79 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

for  a  little  while,  looked  at  her  after  the  manner 
of  one  accepting  a  challenge  joyously. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  presently.  "I  won't 
merely  accept.  You'll  help  my  father.  Father 
isn't  perfect." 

"You  mean,  we'll  improve  our  fathers'?" 

"Yes,"  he  assented;  "we'll  form  the  Fathers' 
Aid  Society." 

"Don't  joke,"  she  interposed. 

"Well,  now,"  he  suggested,  "when  your 
father  marries,  you  won't  accept  conditions." 

Willa  reared  her  head  proudly. 

"I  make  conditions  here,"  was  her  answer. 

Jack  smiled  sympathetically,  and  again 
patted  her  hand;  but  in  the  manner  of  one 
humoring  a  child. 

"Very  unpleasant  conditions  for  Mrs. 
Chase, ' '  he  suggested.  "  I  '11  bet  I  wouldn  't  like 
to  be  around  when  she  assumes  the  'Mrs.'  pre- 
rogative, and  bosses  you."  . 

"Why,  Mr.  Hendrix!" 

"Oh,"  said  Jack,  easily,  "you  will  have  to 
mind  her,  you  know.  Your  father  will  be  in 

80 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

love  with  her,  and  he'll  make  you.  Take  it 
from  me,  when  a  man  gets  a  new  wife,  the  child 
is  mighty  lucky  to  hold  second  place." 

Willa  turned  from  him  with  a  frown. 

"I  think  you  are  horrid,"  she  said  indig- 
nantly, but  he  only  smiled  and  possessed  him- 
self of  both  her  hands. 

"That's  better,"  he  said.  "And  now,  when 
are  you  coming  to  the  studio?"  he  demanded. 
"I  must  paint  you." 

"I  cannot  come  to  the  studio,"  she  said, 
drawing  her  hands  away  suddenly,  as  she 
turned  to  confront  him  squarely.  "Why  do 
you — do  you  like  me,  anyhow  1 ' ' 

"Why  do  I  like  you!"  he  repeated  musingly. 
"Well,  you  are  beautiful,  and  I  am  an  artist." 

"I  do  not  want  to  be  liked  for  that,"  she  re- 
torted, indignantly.  * '  I  want  to  be  liked  for — ' ' 

"I'll  tell  you  then,"  he  said,  seriously. 
"You  are  so  confounded  honest!  Why — why, 
you  tell  the  truth,  too,  when  it  hurts  a  body. 
Do  you  know,  I  never  knew  a  girl  just  like  you. 
I  guess  I  am  such  a  bred  and  born-in  liar 

81 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

I  cannot  help  admiring  honesty  in  somebody 
else." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  you  are  a  liar,"  Willa 
ventured,  half-timidly.  A  note  of  tenderness 
had  crept  into  her  voice  without  any  conscious 
volition. 

"Thanks,"  he  observed  brightly.  "Then, 
you  will  come  T ' ' 

"Oh — I,"   answered   the   girl,   undecidedly, 

HT » 

"I'll  have  mother  there,"  Jack  assured  her. 
"Your  mother  she  is,  you  know,  Willa,"  he 
finished  tenderly. 

"Well,  then,  perhaps,"  she  answered,  hesitat- 
ingly. 

But  Jack  drew  her  toward  him,  and,  despite 
the  fact  that  she  half-resisted,  held  her  suffi- 
ciently close  to  kiss  her  hand.  At  the  contact 
of  his  lips  on  her  palm,  Willa  uttered  a  cry  of 
alarm.  It  was  occasioned  in  part  by  the  im- 
pulsiveness of  his  action  and  in  part  by  the  un- 
expected entrance  of  Maria.  In  the  next  mo- 
ment, the  two  young  persons  stared  together  in 

82 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

a  dismay  that  would  have  been  altogether  com- 
ical had  it  not  possessed  an  underlying  phase 
of  tragedy.    For  Maria  had*  announced ; 
"Mrs.  Hendrix." 


83 


CHAPTER 

THE   SUITOR'S   FLIGHT 

WHEN  the  good  Maria  announced  "Mrs. 
Hendrix,"  there  occurred  that  which 
might  have  called  forth  an  effort  from  the  pen 
of  the  great  picture  satirist,  Hogarth.  Had  his 
destiny  been  to  paint  twentieth-century  scenes 
with  his  wonderfully  broad,  human  comprehen- 
sion, there  would  have  been  as  much  of  pity 
as  of  ridicule  in  the  depiction  of  that  which  now 
occurred  in  John  Chase's  home. 

The  youth  and  the  girl,  on  the  announcement 
of  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Hendrix,  faced  each  other, 
and  with  unconscious  spontaneity  exclaimed  as 
one: 

"Mother!" 

For  an  instant  after  that,  Jack  and  Willa 
stood  nonplused.  For  them,  the  comedy  of  the 

84 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

incident  was  not  uppermost  in  this  instant  of 
amazement.  Some  of  it,  however,  presently 
entered  the  understanding  of  the  youth,  but  he 
had  no  immediate  expression  for  it.  He  was 
more  concerned  with  the  import  of  what  Willa 
said  to  him  at  this  point : 

"You  don't  mind  her  coming  here,  do  you!'* 
she  asked.  And,  then,  she  continued,  defiantly, 
r edoubtedly :  ' '  She  is  my  mother,  you  know  I ' ' 

Jack  Hendrix  was  in  no  wise  perturbed  by 
this  appeal,  for  he  thought  he  knew  and  under- 
stood his  step-mother  better  than  did  her  own 
daughter.  His  estimate  of  Mrs.  Hendrix  was 
not  love-inspiring;  yet  neither  was  it  altogether 
antagonistic.  He  simply  found  her  amusing, 
and  she  asked  nothing  of  him  in  the  way  of 
filial  duty,  save  as  now  and  then  she  made  de- 
mands for  his  attendance  at  her  social  func- 
tions. These,  to  be  sure,  were  irksome  when 
he  attended  them ;  but  he  rarely  did,  and,  there- 
fore, he  had  no  real  bill  of  complaint  against 
her.  He  had  experienced,  though,  a  sense  of 
recoil  at  divers  times  against  the  woman,  be- 

85 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

cause  of  her  controlled  vanity,  because  of  the 
pitiable  silliness,  as  he  adjudged  it,  of  her  es- 
timate of  what  really  constituted  the  important 
things  in  life.  Moreover,  there  was  a  stronger 
recoil  against  her  in  that  she  stood  in  such  a 
peculiar  relation  to  himself  and  the  girl  he  was 
eager  to  marry.  Nevertheless,  he  was  well 
able  to  appreciate  Willa's  ideal  of  her  mother, 
and,  with  a  natural  quality  of  delicacy,  he  was 
loath  to  attack  that  idealization  by  the  daugh- 
ter of  the  vain,  handsome,  flamboyant  mother, 
whose  social  achievements  so  often  filled  the 
eyes  of  the  public  through  the  binoculars  of  the 
press. 

At  this  particular  moment,  however,  young 
Hendrix  was  more  dismayed  than  he  otherwise 
would  have  been  at  the  arrival  of  his  step- 
mother in  the  home  of  her  daughter. 
i     "I  must  be  going,"  he  said,  hurriedly. 

The  girl  frowned. 

"But  she  is  my  mother,"  she  persisted,  in- 
dignantly. 

1  'To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  Jack  replied  read- 
86 


ily  and  laughingly.  "But  you  don't  under- 
stand— I'm  in  Pittsburgh!" 

"In  Pittsburgh?" 

"Yes,  I  told  her  I  was  going  to  Pittsburgh. 
I  did  it  as  a  matter  of  self-defense,  you  know 
— trying  to  avoid  being  one  of  her  dancing  men 
at  her  reception  to-morrow  night.  I  really 
must  get  out  without  her  seeing  me."  So  say- 
ing, young  Hendrix  started  for  the  door  that 
led  to  a  small  store-room  off  the  library. 

But  Willa  stopped  his  projected  flight. 

"You  can  show  Mrs.  Hendrix  up,  Maria," 
she  said  evenly  to  the  servant.  Then,  she 
turned  to  Jackj  "Now,  down  the  hall — the 
back  steps  through  the  pantry." 

The  young  man  paused  to  laugh  aloud  over 
the  absurdity  of  the  adventure,  and  said: 

"I'll  be  back — after  mother's  gone.  I've 
something  particular  to  say  to  you — to  tell 
you." 

Willa  made  no  pretense  of  not  catching  the 
tenderness  that  was  in  the  voice  of  the  bright- 
eyed,  clear-skinned,  athletic  young  man  who  so- 

87 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

addressed  her.  She  was  even  eager  in  her 
smiling  manner  of  reply: 

"Mother  never  stays  long,"  she  said,  en- 
couragingly. 

' '  Then — in  fifteen  minutes, ' '  he  laughed  back 
at  her. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  with  a  pretty  response 
to  his  tenderness. 

Thereat,  the  suitor  vanished  by  the  method 
of  flight  to  which  he  had  been  directed.  But, 
just  before  he  disappeared  through  the  pantry- 
room,  he  flashed  back  with  his  hand  from  his 
lips  a  message  that  made  the  girl's  cheeks 
glow  yet  more  rosily,  and  with  a  half-tentative 
wave  of  her  graceful  fingers  from  her  own  win- 
some mouth  she  gave  him  his  reply. 

Instantly,  thereafter,  however,  she  assumed 
her  best  poise  of  gravity.  There  were  both  in- 
terest and  lively  speculation  in  her  eyes,  as  she 
held  herself  ready  to  greet  her  mother. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MKS.    HENDBIX 

•»1\TY  dear  child!" 

"Good-morning,  mother.  Well,  this 
is  a  nice  surprise!"  returned  "Willa,  with  gen- 
uine cordiality. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  was  just  at  the  turn  of  forty 
without  being  afflicted  with  any  of  the  ugli- 
ness of  portliness,  wrinkles  or  sagging  flesh. 
She  was  faultlessly  gowned — extravagantly 
gowned,  indeed;  yet,  without  undue  accentua- 
tion of  the  extreme  costliness  and  richness  of 
her  attire.  Her  features  were  regular  with  a 
regularity  too  fine — too  fine  for  any  wealth  of 
temperament  or  intellect.  Her  big,  clear  blue 
eyes  under  their  exact  arches,  with  her  finely 
molded  delicacy  of  nose  and  chin  contour,  with 
her  well-turned,  but  thin,  lips,  absolutely  be- 
tokened her  type:  that  of  a  cold,  unemotional, 

90 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

calculating,  ambitious  woman,  ruled  by  the 
single  passion  of  material  vanity.  She  had  the 
narrow  outlook  of  a  woman  peering  at  the 
world  through  the  half -closed  slats  of  a  shutter. 
Her  standards  met  absolutely  this  limitation  of 
outlook.  Her  salutation,  "My  dear  child!'* 
was  in  the  high-pitched,  clearly  enunciated 
manner  of  fashion,  but  whatever  genuine  feel- 
ing there  was  that  lay  beneath  the  words  was 
carefully  repressed  in  her  manner  of  speech. 

It  was  not  at  all  with  the  instinct  of  a  child 
greeting  her  mother  that  Willa  saluted  this 
woman.  It  was  altogether  as  youth  greets 
something  it  deems  superior.  To  Willa,  her 
mother's  attention  was  flattering,  interesting, 
remarkable;  the  condescension  of  a  distin- 
guished woman  of  the  social  world  toward  an 
obscure  girl  in  middle-class  life. 

"It  was  just  like  you  to  come  and  see  me 
to-day,"  she  said,  with  admiration  and  enthusi- 
asm; but  somewhat  tactlessly,  perhaps,  for  her 
mother  answered  in  tones  distinctly  tinged  with 
bitterness : 

91 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Yes — while  your  father  is  away,  I  manage 
to  see  my  child,  now  and  then. ' ' 

"Father  comes  home  to-day,"  said  the  girl, 
with  a  regretf ulness  not  merely  polite.  "His 
invention,  he  writes  me,  has  been  a  tremendous 
success." 

This  announcement  awakened  no  interest  in 
the  former  Mrs.  Chase. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  indifferently.  She  glanced 
quickly  about  the  room — a  room  once  very 
familiar  to  her.  It  aroused  no  tender  reminis- 
cences. She  felt  only  contempt  for  the  dark, 
heavy  book-cases  and  half-worn  leather  chairs, 
for  the  subdued  coloring  and  seasoned  aspect 
of  the  library. 

"In  as  bad  taste  and  common  looking  as  it 
used  to  be,"  she  sniffed.  "I  loathed  that  wall- 
paper!" 

"So  do  I  now, ' '  answered  the  girl,  eager  for 
admission  to  her  mother's  plane  of  superiority. 
And,  then,  warmly,  with  a  long  glance  at  her 
beautiful  parent,  she  added : 

92 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"What  a  lovely  dress,  mother!" 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Hendrix  said.  "I'm  sorry, 
Willa,  that  I  cannot  say  the  same  for  yours. 
Did  your  father  choose  it  ?  " 

The  girl  nodded  confirmation. 

"It  looks  like  him,"  said  Mrs.  Hendrix,  in- 
dignantly. ' '  The  idea  of  a  man  trying  to  man- 
age electricity  and  a  girl's  clothes  at  the  same 
time!  But — "  she  waved  her  gloved  hands 
lightly — ' '  that 's  your  father. ' '  Then,  she  put  a 
finger  daintily  across  her  lips.  "I  always  for- 
get, ' '  she  added,  *  *  that  I  must  not  say  anything 
against  your  father.  The  court  gave  you  to 
him."  She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "That  is 
what  men  do  for  each  other." 

' '  I  think  it  was  horrible  and  unfair — not  giv- 
ing you  a  chance,"  said  the  girl,  with  full 
sympathy.  "Wouldn't  they  listen  to  you, 
mother?" 

As  nearly  as  she  might,  Mrs.  Hendrix 
blushed;  and  a  keen  eye  could  have  noted  an 
instant's  overmastering  confusion. 

93 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"You  cannot  understand  these  legal  matters, 
Willa;  you  are  too  young,"  she  replied,  at  last. 
"Oh,  the  whole  thing  was  very  complicated,  I 
assure  you." 

Willa  quickly  abandoned  a  subject  that  was 
palpably  unpleasant  to  her  admirable  parent. 
Instead,  she  allowed  her  sentiment  to  be  stirred 
in  another  direction.  She  felt  the  natural 
yearning  of  a  child  toward  a  mother,  and  with 
it  came  strongly  the  desire  to  draw  nearer  to 
her;  to  repair  the  broken  bond  between  them. 
The  girl  indicated,  with  a  shy  motion  of  hands 
and  eyes,  the  picture  she  had  so  recently  hung. 

"Do  you  remember  that,  mother!  I  found 
it  in  the  attic." 

Mrs.  Hendrix  put  up  her  gold,  bejeweled 
lorgnette. 

"Ah,  yes,"  she  said,  without  enthusiasm. 
"Yes;  I  remember.  It  was  a  very  tiresome 
sitting.  You  were  an  ugly,  skinny  little  gawk 
then,  Willa.  I  never  thought  you  would  grow 
up  to  look  as  well  as  you  do." 

"Yes,  mother,"  said  the  girl,  gratefully. 
94 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

She  stood  then,  while  her  mother  scrutinized 
her  at  length. 

"Yes,"  said  her  parent,  "it's  quite  surpris- 
ing." 

"Well,  you  see,  mother,"  said  Willa,  wholly 
apologetically,  "you  never  saw  me  for  ten 
years,  and — " 

Mrs.  Hendrix  started. 

"To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  she  answered, 
hastily.  "I  was  abroad  a  great  deal,  and — " 
she  coughed  significantly — "your  father,  you 
know,  my  dear  child!" 

"Yes,"  said  Willa,  fully  impressed. 

"I  think  you  would  be  a  credit,  if — "  But, 
as  Willa  leaned  forward,  eager  to  know  in  what 
manner  she  might  hope  to  become  a  credit  in 
her  wonderful  mother's  eyes,  the  lady  abruptly 
changed  the  subject,  asking:  "By  the  way,  has 
Jack  been  in  to-day?" 

Willa  endured  a  moment  of  painful  hesita- 
tion. But,  in  the  end,  she  was  true  to  Jack. 

"Why — why — I  understood  he  went  to  Pitts- 
burgh, ' '  she  managed  to  say. 

95 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Mrs.  Hendrix  bent  a  searching  glance  on 
the  girl.  Her  tones  were  dry,  as  she  suddenly 
reverted  to  what  had  been  in  her  mind  before 
she  put  the  question  about  Jack. 

"I  have  been  wondering,  Willa,"  said  she, 
"whether  you  are  old  enough  for  society.  I 
begin  to  believe  that  you  are." 

"You  mean  that — f "  began  the  girl,  eagerly, 
impulsively. 

"I  am  afraid,  I  mean  nothing,  my  child. 
Your  father,  of  course,  does  not,  would  not, 
approve;  and  the  courts — " 

"Hang  the  courts!"  exclaimed  Willa,  ex- 
citedly and  decisively.  ' '  You  are  my  mother ! ' ' 

"But — but,  my  daughter — " 

'  *  Oh,  mother !    You  would  bring  me  out  f ' ' 

She  arose  and  walked  toward  her  parent; 
her  eager  hands  were  outstretched.  Her 
mother  put  out  an  arm  significant  of  restraint. 

* '  Scarcely,  under  the  circumstances — against 
his  wishes.  He  is  your  father,  my  child,  and 
he  has  all  legal  authority  over  you  until  you 
are  twenty-one." 

96 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Then?"  demanded  the  girl. 

"You  can  choose  then,"  asserted  her  mother. 

"At  twenty-one?"  All  the  longing  she  felt 
for  the  luxurious  life  that  was  within  her 
mother's  gift  had  expression  in  her  manner  of 
repeating  the  query. 

"Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Hendrix  practically, 
"your  father  will  marry,  and — well,  then  his 
wife  may  chaperon  you." 

"Father  marry?"  Willa  stared,  startled  at 
this  repetition  of  the  baneful  suggestion.  ' '  He 
has  to  look  after  me, ' '  she  concluded  indig- 
nantly. 

Her  mother  caught  the  girl's  hands. 

"But  if  he  should?" 

"If  he  should,"  began  Willa,  and  stopped. 

Both  women,  conscious  of  another  presence  in 
the  room,  turned — to  see  John  Chase  himself, 
standing  between  the  portieres  of  the  library. 


97 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    INTRUDER 

A  LARGE,  deep-chested  man  was  John 
Chase,  ruggedly  strong  and  handsome  of 
features.  His  size  and  physical  characteristics 
were  indicative  of  his  mental  and  moral  equip- 
ment. Big  in  heart  as  well  as  brain,  he  was; 
masterful,  inventive.  A  man  of  strong  emo- 
tions and  indomitable  will,  he  had  suffered 
keenly  for  the  wrong  done  to  him  in  the  past 
by  his  wife,  but  he  had  refused  to  allow  the 
deep  injury  to  thwart  his  future,  to  discourage 
him  in  the  upward  climb  for  a  great  success. 
It  had  taken  him  a  long  time  to  undergo  the 
complete  disillusionment  of  the  love  that  his 
wife's  vanity  had  attracted  from  him.  But, 
now  that  he  knew  the  woman  thoroughly,  he 
was  most  earnestly  determined  that  Willa 
should  never  grow  up  to  be  an  empty-hearted, 

98 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

avaricious  woman  of  her  mother's  kind.  All 
the  love  that  he  had  drawn  away  from  the 
mother,  he  had  for  a  long  time  centered  on  his 
child.  Even  her  faults  of  egotism  and  selfish- 
ness were  indulged  by  him  in  his  great  love  for 
her.  Yet,  he  was  sure  that  with  maturity  these 
common  errors  of  youth  would  fall  away. 

He  had  appeared  in  the  doorway  with  his 
handsome  face  beaming  happiness ;  but,  on  the 
instant,  the  expression  changed  to  one  of  con- 
sternation and  horror  at  sight  of  the  company 
in  which  he  saw  his  child.  He  stood  wavering 
for  a  moment  at  the  threshold  of  the  room. 
This  was  when  Mrs.  Hendrix  saw  him.  A 
startled  exclamation  was  drawn  from  her. 

"Father !"  cried  Willa,  running  to  meet 
him. 

"Willa,  my  dear  girl,"  he  said,  embracing 
and  kissing  her. 

"Father,  you  nearly  crush  me!"  panted 
Willa,  in  laughing  protest. 

He  laughed  back  at  her,  still  holding  her  arms 
helpless  in  the  grip  of  his  strong  hands. 

100 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

The  girl  nodded  her  pretty  head. 

"Father,"  she  said,  remonstratingly,  " don't 
you  see — my  mother?" 

Mr.  Chase  maintained  his  hold  of  the  girl's 
hands,  but  bowed  courteously  the  while  in  the 
direction  of  Mrs.  Hendrix. 

"How  do  you  do?"  he  said,  with  formal 
politeness. 

* '  How  do  you  do  ? "  she  answered,  quite  help- 
lessly. An  awkward  silence  came  over  the 
group. 

After  a  little,  Willa  sought  to  come  to  the 
rescue. 

"Isn't  it — er — isn't  it  nice  to  be  all  together 
again?"  she  said,  suddenly  and  somewhat 
breathlessly. 

The  irony  of  what  she  had  said  stung  both 
the  man  and  the  woman.  But  they  answered 
hastily,  swiftly. 

"Very  nice,"  gasped  Chase. 

"Delightful,"  faltered  Mrs.  Hendrix,  his 
former  wife. 

But  the  miserable  silence  thrust  itself  upon 
101 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

them  again.    Under  the  whip  of  it,  Chase  drew 
himself  up,  coughed,  and  finally  spoke : 

"It  is  a  pleasant  day,"  he  said  heavily, 
solemnly. 

"Oh,  charming!"  said  Mrs.  Hendrix. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Willa,  coming  with  com- 
prehension now  into  the  circle  of  embarrass- 
ment. 

"Er — did  you  have  a  pleasant  journey?" 
asked  Mrs.  Hendrix. 

"Delightful!" 

Again,  a  painful  pause  ensued. 

But  Willa  was  recovering  her  usual  aplomb. 

"I  have  often  wanted  to  see  you  together," 
she  said  boldly,  half -defiantly.  "I  always  won- 
dered what  sort  of  a  couple  you  would  make." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  her  mother,  in  exaspera- 
tion. 

"You  did,  eh?"  demanded  her  father,  grimly. 

"Well,  that's  the  worst  of  having  one's 
parents  divorced,  isn't  it?"  she  asked  airily. 
"I  believe,  I'd  lots  rather  have  one  of  them 
dead." 

102 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Willa!"  cried  Mrs.  Hendrix. 

"My  child!"  admonished  Mr.  Chase. 

The  girl  tossed  her  head,  laughingly. 

' '  I  didn  't  mean  to  be  horrid, ' '  she  said.  * '  Of 
course,  I  wouldn't  have  either  of  you  dead,  for 
the  world." 

"Well,  that's  nice  of  you,"  commented  Mr. 
Chase,  gratefully. 

"You  don't  do  sarcasm  well,  father,"  Willa 
retorted. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  gathered  up  her  skirts,  gave  a 
touch  to  her  hair,  and  spoke  tentatively : 

"I  think,  Willa,  that  I'll—"  But,  if  the 
woman's  intention  had  been  departure,  her 
daughter  did  not  aid  its  execution.  On  the 
contrary,  she  held  her  mother  in  the  room, 
actually  helpless  from  shock  and  astonish- 
ment, for  the  girl  gazed  fixedly  with  grave  eyes, 
and  said: 

"I've  thought  a  lot  about  it,  and,  somehow, 
I  don't  like  it — your  living  away  from  us — liv- 
ing with  another  man." 

"Willa!" 

103 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Come,  dear!"  interrupted  her  father, 
sharply. 

But  their  child  only  shook  her  finger  severely 
at  the  twain,  and  continued : 

* '  Eemember,  this  is  the  first  family  party  I 
can  remember,  and  it  may  be  the  last.  So,  I'm 
going  to  have  my  say  out." 

"Willa!"  protested  her  mother  again. 
Chase  fell  back,  with  a  gesture  of  utter  help- 
lessness. 

"Oh,  it's  all  very  well  for  you,  father,"  Willa 
continued,  warmly.  * '  You  got  what  you  wanted 
— and  mother  got  what  she  wanted.  But  no- 
body asked  me  what  I  wanted.  Now,  I'm  the 
one  to  suffer.  That's  just  it  with  a  divorce — 
the  innocent  suffer.  I  tell  you,"  she  went  on 
briskly,  with  an  indignant  glance  that  shot 
from  one  to  the  other  of  her  painfully  amazed 
auditors,  "I'm  tired  of  parents  on  the  install- 
ment plan.  I — " 

"Willa!"  thundered  her  father.  But  the  in- 
trepid daughter  waved  his  authority  petulantly 
aside. 

104 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  tell  you,"  she  reiterated,  "I  don't  like  it 
one  bit.  It  embarrasses  me.  And  what's 
more,  mother,  what  you  said  about  my  going 
out  into  society,  and  about  father's  possibly 
marrying  again,  put  me  all  out.  Why, ' '  she  ex- 
claimed, with  an  expression  of  horror,  "sup- 
pose— suppose  he  should  do  it — should  marry 
again!  Heavens!  And  when  you  two  make 
such  a  nice  looking  couple,  too !  I  don't  like  it, 
I  tell  you." 

Her  father  had  drawn  back,  evidently  suffer- 
ing an  agony  of  embarrassment.  But  Willa's 
attention  just  then  centered  on  her  mother. 

"Indeed,  mother,"  she  cried,  "you  got  one 
divorce.  Now,  why  can't  you  get  another — 
and  come  back  to  us  f  Oh,  that  would  be  jolly ! 
A  nice  family  party!  Wouldn't  it  just  be 
grand?  A  family  party!"  she  held  out  her 
hands,  one  toward  Mrs.  Hendrix,  the  other 
toward  John  Chase,  in  a  graceful  gesture  of 
supplication. 

"Willa!"  her  mother  exclaimed,  almost  dis- 
tracted. 

105 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"My  child!"  cried  her  father,  in  futile,  angry 
protest. 

It  was  at  this  psychological  moment,  as  the 
parents  of  the  girl  stood  drawn  from  her,  each 
with  a  protesting  hand  put  forward  to  still  her 
well-intentioned  chatter,  that  a  fourth  person 
appeared  in  the  room. 

"I  hope  I  don't  intrude,"  came  a  voice 
softly;  and,  as  they  swiftly  turned  toward  the 
sound,  a  young,  slender,  fair-haired  woman 
stood  in  the  door-way,  her  lovely  eyes  directed 
inquiringly  toward  Chase. 

At  once,  the  man  strode  rapidly  over  to  her. 
The  smile  of  his  greeting  was  lovingly  joyous. 

"Intrude?"  he  cried  to  her.  "You  an  in- 
truder!" He  caught  her  hand,  and  led  her 
toward  his  daughter.  "Willa,"  he  said  anx- 
iously, albeit  with  inviting  tenderness  and 
love,  "you  said  you  needed  a  mother — I've 
brought  you  one."  He  wheeled  then  in  the  di- 
rection of  his  former  spouse.  ' '  Mrs.  Hendrix, ' ' 
he  said,  with  an  odd  emphasis,  "my  wife." 


106 


CHAPTER  X 

STEAINED    KELATIONS 

T  F  Mrs.  Hendrix  was  momentarily  thrown  off 
-•-  her  poise  by  John  Chase's  announcement, 
so  that  she  gasped,  Willa  was  even  more  de- 
monstrative in  her  expression  of  astonish- 
ment and  displeasure.  She  openly  and  steadily 
stared  at  the  young  woman  before  her.  Then, 
she  stepped  backward,  looked  at  her  father,  and 
lowered  her  eyes  sulkily  from  his  smiling  nod  in 
confirmation  of  the  import  of  what  he  had  just 
said. 

"My  name  is  Dorothy,"  said  the  gray-clad 
bride  to  John  Chase's  daughter.  "I  hope  we 
shall  be  good  friends."  And  then,  as  they 
stood  regarding  each  other,  she  of  much  the 
same  tall  slenderness  as  was  Willa  herself,  and 
with  plainly  but  a  few  years  separating  their 
ages,  she  spoke  again,  gently:  "Under  the  cir- 

107 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

cumstances,  it  would  be  too  absurd  for  you  to 
call  me  ' mother.'  '  Yet,  she  leaned  forward  in 
something  like  wistful  expectation,  even  as  she 
spoke.  But  there  was  no  kiss  of  kindly  greet- 
ing, for  Willa  coldly  turned  her  cheek  away. 
Dorothy,  plainly  hurt,  made,  nevertheless,  a 
quick  concealment  of  the  fact. 

"Yes,  it  would  be  too  absurd,"  said  Willa, 
coldly. 

Dorothy  armed  herself  swiftly  with  a  pre- 
tense of  gaiety. 

"Yes,  of  course,  it  would,"  she  laughed. 

The  bride  turned  then  toward  Mrs.  Hen- 
drix,  and,  by  her  ease  of  manner  and  by  what 
she  said  in  this  direction,  furnished  to  the  older 
woman  and  her  daughter  the  revelation  that 
the  new  Mrs.  Chase  was  in  complete  ignorance 
as  to  the  identity  of  Mrs.  Hendrix,  and  that 
she  probably  knew  nothing  whatever  of  a  di- 
vorce. In  all  likelihood,  she  regarded  John 
Hendrix  as  a  bona-fide  widower,  with  no  least 
suspicion  that  he  was  a  divorced  man. 

"It  is  a  charming  welcome  home  to  meet  so 
108 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

soon  a  friend  of  Mr.  Chase,"  the  bride  was  say- 
ing to  the  former  wife ;  * '  and  to  meet,  also,  my 
daughter. '  ' 

Mrs.  Hendrix  had  taken  Dorothy's  hand;  but, 
now,  she  dropped  it  abruptly.  The  situation 
was  altogether  too  thrillingly  sensational,  she 
found,  to  permit  any  satisfactory  control  of  her 
behavior. 

"I  hope  you'll  pardon  my  show  of  affection," 
continued  Mrs.  Chase,  with  a  half-bantering, 
laughing  manner,  "but,  you  see,  I've  been  a 
mother  such  a  short  while,  and,  too,  she  is  such 
a  great,  big  girl  for  such  a  young  mother,  that 
— well,  I'm  sure  you  think  with  me,  she  is 
worth  making  a  great  deal  over." 

"I  think  so,"  said  Mrs.  Hendrix,  quite  ex- 
pressionlessly. 

Dorothy  felt  herself  completely  adrift  in 
storm-clouds,  but  she  knew  neither  their  pre- 
cise source  nor  their  direction.  She  could  only 
grope  her  way,  in  the  hope  of  happily  weath- 
ering the  tempest  by  some  kindness  of  fate's 
interposition. 

109 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"You  hear  Mrs.  Hendrix?"  she  demanded, 
smilingly,  of  her  husband.  "Now,  you  see, 
when  I  take  Willa's  part  against  you,  I  shall 
have  a  backer.  When  you  think  her  wrong,  I  '11 
refer  you  to  Mrs.  Hendrix." 

"I'll  always  take  Willa's  part,  I  promise 
you,"  said  Mrs.  Hendrix,  with  an  explosive 
promptness. 

"I  know  you  will,  dear,"  said  the  daughter 
fondly,  regarding  her  parent. 

* '  See ! ' '  said  Dorothy,  with  a  playfully  warn- 
ing finger  pointing  at  Chase.  "Be  warned." 

The  husband  would  have  liked  to  encourage 
this  mood  of  gaiety,  but,  in  attempting  it,  he 
only  succeeded  in  smiling  very  wryly,  as  he 
said: 

' '  Oh,  yes — I  quite  understand. ' ' 

The  new  Mrs.  Chase  felt  that  somehow  an 
effected  support  had  failed  dismally.  She 
sought  other  relief,  and  looked  around  the 
room  with  a  kindling  eye. 

"What  a  beautiful  red  library  this  is!"  she 
exclaimed.  "I'm  in  love  with  it,  already. 

110 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Don't  you — "  she  turned  to  Mrs.  Hendrix  and 
Willa,  but  found  such  blank  eyes  regarding  her 
that  she  added  quickly,  by  way  of  recovery — 
"but,  then,  you've  seen  it  so  often." 

Mrs.  Hendrix  turned  a  cold  eye  on  her  sur- 
roundings. 

"I  do  not  think  it  has  changed  in  ten  years," 
she  said. 

"Changed — the  idea!"  exclaimed  the  bride, 
warmly.  "It  would  be  a  crime  to  change  this 
dear  old  room."  She  turned  eagerly  toward 
John  Chase.  "I'm  so  anxious,"  she  said  with 
youthful  enthusiasm,  "to  take  off  my  things 
and  roam  over  the  whole  house,  to  explore — 
to  explore  home,"  she  ended,  tenderly.  "I'm 
afraid,"  she  went  on,  with  a  little  nod  toward 
Mrs.  Hendrix,  "that  you'll  think  I'm  horribly 
youthful — and  domestic." 

"I  believe,"  returned  the  other  woman, 
"those  are  qualities  usually  admired." 

During  this  inauspicious  interval,  John 
Chase's  uneasiness  had  become  poignant.  It 
was  unfair  to  the  young  woman  whom  he  had 

111 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

brought  to  preside  in  his  home  that  she  should 
be  abandoned  to  do  all  this  difficult  ice-break- 
ing alone.  But  he  had  stood  with  clumsy  help- 
lessness in  the  presence  of  the  three  women 
until  this  moment.  Now,  at  last,  however,  he 
entered  to  her  aid. 

"Willa,"  he  said,  with  a  great  effort  toward 
ease,  "suppose  you  take  your  mother — "  He 
stopped,  his  face  reddening;  his  tongue  was 
clamped  by  the  queer  situation.  "With  earnest 
endeavor,  he  made  a  fresh  start:  "Suppose 
you  take  Dorothy  upstairs,  and  show  her  about. 
Mrs.  Hendrix  will  excuse  you. ' ' 

Eebellion  flared  in  Willa's  eyes,  but  Dorothy 
disarmed  the  girl  by  frankly  asking: 

"Will  you?  I — I'd  like  to  lay  aside  my 
hat." 

"  Certainly, "  the  girl  responded,  with  the 
civility  of  gentle  breeding  coming  upper- 
most. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  bowed  a  formally  gracious  ac- 
ceptance of  the  situation. 

"This  is  good  of  you,"  cried  Dorothy  con- 
112 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

fidentially  to  Willa.  "I  do  want  to  talk  to  you. 
There  is  so  much  to  explain!" 

Willa 's  slender  form  stiffened  perceptibly. 

"Yes,"-  she  said,  "there  is  a  great  deal  to  ex- 
plain. ' ' 

The  shaft  was  not  lost  on  Dorothy.  She  felt 
its  sting,  but  admirably  maintained  her  smiling 
manner,  as  the  two  departed  from  the  library, 
and  left  John  Chase  there,  facing  his  former 
wife. 


113 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   FATE   OP   THE    CHILD 

CHASE  looked  up,  and,  without  ceremony, 
waved  his  hand  toward  the  door,  asking: 

"You  are  going?" 

But  Mrs.  Hendrix  faced  her  former  husband 
squarely,  with  a  negative  shake  of  the  head. 

"Not  until  I  settle  with  you  about  Willa — 
her  future,"  she  said  decisively. 

"Willa  is  my  child,"  he  retorted;  and  his 
voice  was  rancorously  stern. 

"And  mine!"  she  asserted,  strongly. 

"For  ten  years,  you  never  even  asked  to  see 
her,"  returned  Chase,  scornfully.  "This  new 
maternal  longing  in  you  is  as  delightful  to  con- 
template as  it  is  surprising." 

"How  did  I  know  that  you  would  allow  it?" 
she  asked,  defensively. 

""When  she  was  ill  four  years  ago,"  he  an- 
115 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

swered  bitterly,  "I  wrote  you — I  telegraphed 
you.     There  was  no  answer. ' ' 

"I  didn't  know,"  she  declared. 

Chase  was  unyielding. 

"You  didn't  know,"  he  said,  "that  she  would 
grow  up  into  a  young  woman  who  would  be 
a  credit  to  anyone." 

Mrs.  Hendrix  grew  indignant. 

"And,  now,"  she  said,  "at  the  most  critical 
moment  of  her  life,  you  would  crush  her  with 
a  step-mother." 

""Well,  apparently,"  the  man  retorted,  "she 
must  have  a  step-parent — Mrs.  Chase  or  Mr. 
Hendrix.  I  prefer  Mrs.  Chase." 

The  woman  was  clearly  angry  now. 

"You  have  not  acted  fairly,"  she  cried. 
"You  told  Willa  nothing  of  your  marriage,  and 
I've  just  met  your  wife;  and  it  was  very  plain 
that  she  did  not  know  who  I  was. '  * 

"No!"  agreed  Chase,  emphatically. 

"I  don't  believe  you  ever  told  her  you  were 
divorced ! ' ' 

"No,"  he  agreed. 

116 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

At  this  bald  confession  of  reticence,  the 
woman  glared  at  him. 

"So!"  she  exclaimed.  "You  just  killed  me 
off,  I  suppose?" 

"I  shall  tell  her  the  truth,"  Chase  said,  with 
a  keen  glance;  "all  of  the  truth." 

The  ex-wife  winced  perceptibly  at  this.  She 
turned  from  him;  doubt  and  confusion  were  in 
her  eyes.  But  she  had  determination. 

"You  will  not  give  Willa  to  me?"  she  asked. 

' '  You  made  a  bargain, ' '  he  said.  ' '  Now,  live 
up  to  it." 

"But—" 

"You  were  willing  to  allow  me  the  child," 
said  Chase,  emphatically,  "on  condition  that  I 
would  not  contest  the  suit.  You  could  never 
have  got  a  divorce,  if  I  had  opposed  it.  What 
could  you  have  brought  against  me  ?  Nothing ! ' ' 

"True,"  she  said,  with  her  woman's  method 
of  reply  when  left  without  reasonable  retort. 
"You  were  always  a  cold  fish,  always  in  the 
right,  of  course.  I  guess  that's  why  I  came 
to  hate  you." 

117 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Hendrix  is  not  always  in  the  right?"  he 
asked,  with  an  ironic  expression  in  the  eyes. 

''How — what!"  she  began,  angrily. 

''I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  coldly.  "I 
should  not  have  criticized  your  husband. ' ' 

"I  know  you  hate  him,"  she  cried;  "but — " 

' '  Oh,  no ;  I  never  hate  a  man  who  does  me  a 
service,"  he  said,  significantly. 

Mrs.  Hendrix 's  bosom  heaved. 

"You  are  nasty  enough  sometimes,"  she  as- 
serted, "to  be  a  woman." 

Chase  turned  from  her,  with  a  gesture  of 
impatience. 

1  i  This  discussion  is  futile, ' '  he  said.  * '  Let  us 
drop  it." 

"If  he  did  you  a  service,"  she  continued 
tenaciously,  "why  don't  you  pay  for  it  by  giv- 
ing me  the  child — my  child?" 

The  man  laughed  at  her. 

"That  would  be  a  Hendrix  bargain,"  he  an- 
swered. 

Then,  he  stepped  toward  her,  his  face  set- 
tling into  stern  lines,  his  eyes  hardening. 

118 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"No,"  lie  said,  deliberately;  "you  are  no 
more  fit  now  to  have  the  care  of  her  at  nineteen 
than  you  were  when  she  was  nine.  You  did  not 
leave  me  ten  years  ago  because  you  disliked 
me.  That  was  incidental.  You  left  for  social 
ambition — for  money.  It  was  a  deal — you  un- 
derstand?— a  mere  commercial  transaction,  one 
of  Hendrix's  bargains.  He  bought  you  for  so 
much.  It  was  arranged  between  you  while  you 
were  yet  my  wife." 

"John  Chase,"  she  cried  at  him  in  return, 
"you  mean  to  insult — " 

*  *  No — no ! "  he  answered,  impatiently.  * i  Oh, 
you  did  not  break  the  commandment.  I  know 
that.  You  would  have  been  a  better  woman  if 
you  had.  I  would  have  respected  you  more. 
It's  no  more  moral  credit  to  collect  the  price 
in  advance — it's  merely  better  business." 

She  had  fallen  back  from  him,  and  was  lean- 
ing hard  upon  the  library  table.  In  all  her 
life,  she  had  never  found  herself  in  such  an 
emotional  tumult. 

"Your  talk  proves,"  she  retorted,  collecting 
119 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

herself,  "that  you  are  not  fit  to  have  charge 
of  a  young  girl's  bringing  up." 

"Your  actions,"  he  answered,  gravely  and 
calmly,  "have  proved  your  unworthiness.  Ten 
years  ago,  you  sold  Willa  for  your  freedom, 
just  as,  if  I  were  to  give  her  to  you  now,  you'd 
sell  her  over  again  for  money  and  cheap  social 
honor.  At  best,"  he  went  on,  with  increasing 
intensity,  "the  love  of  man  and  woman  is  apt 
to  be  transient.  But,  when  the  mother  fails — " 
He  made  a  gesture  of  complete  condemnation. 
When  he  spoke  again,  it  was  in  a  softer  key, 
with  the  vehemence  dismissed.  "Oh,  it's  all  a 
part  with  the  rest,"  he  said.  "In  ten  years  of 
our  married  life,  I  never  heard  the  word  'ideal' 
from  your  lips.  You  never  even  thought  it." 

She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  replying: 

"I'm  not  a  poet,  or  a  dreamer." 

"No,"  he  responded  bitterly;  "you  are  one 
of  Hendrix's  bargains." 

"That  is  neither  here  nor  there,"  she  an- 
swered. "But,  if  you've  the  girl's  interest 
really  at  heart,  why  not  consider  the  practical 

120 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

side?  Compared  to  me,  what  can  you  give  her? 
What  position  will  she  marry  into  f  What  will 
she  become?" 

"She  will  marry,"  he  said,  his  voice  going 
deep  and  low  with  the  force  of  a  great  feeling, 
"into  the  position  of  a  loved  wife,  to  become, 
please  God,  the  mother  of  a  good  man's  chil- 
dren. ' ' 

"And  who,  pray,"  Mrs.  Hendrix  demanded 
sarcastically,  "will  teach  her  your  poet's 
dream?" 

"The  woman  you  saw  here — a  real  woman, 
a  woman — "  His  speech  concluded  with  an  ex- 
pression of  his  eyes  and  a  movement  of  his 
hands,  bespeaking  an  inability  to  justly  describe 
the  perfection  that  he  had  in  mind. 

"Willa's  no  longer  a  child,"  her  mother  ob- 
served tartly.  "She's  nearly  a  woman  herself. 
In  two  years,  she  can  choose.  That  was  the 
arrangement,  you  remember.  At  twenty-one, 
she  is  to  be  allowed  to  choose — " 

'  *  Yes ;  you  put  that  in  then,  to  save  your  self- 
respect." 

121 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"At  twenty-one — "  she  repeated. 

"At  twenty-one, "  lie  said  defiantly,  "she  can 
choose  between  us.  Meanwhile — " 

His  certainty  of  voice  as  he  said  this,  indicat- 
ing as  it  did  that  he  was  fearless  of  the  direc- 
tion his  daughter's  choice  would  take,  angered 
the  woman  beyond  bounds. 

"You  colossal  egotist!"  she  fairly  shouted  at 
him. 

"We'll  see,"  he  said,  quietly. 


122 


CHAPTEE  XII 

"OBEY  YOUE  STEP-MOTHEB,  DEAR!" 

IT  was  at  this  juncture  of  understanding  be- 
tween Willa's  mother  and  father  that  the 
girl  returned  with  her  youthful  step-mother.  It 
was  easy  to  see  that  the  two  young  women  stood 
in  no  more  sympathetic  relationship  with  each 
other  than  when  they  had  left  the  room.  Dor- 
othy was  still  bent  on  being  friendly  and  agree- 
able; Willa  was  still  holding  herself  merely 
within  the  bounds  of  perfunctory  civility. 

"Father,"  said  Willa,  "Mr.  Johnson  wishes 
to  speak  to  you  on  the  telephone.  He  was  here 
this  morning  to  see  you." 

"Johnson?  Oh,  yes;  I  remember.  If  you 
will  excuse  me!"  Chase  left  the  room  hur- 
riedly. Dorothy  stood  between  Mrs.  Hendrix 
and  Willa,  wholly  without  a  defender. 

"I  think  upstairs  is  just  perfect,"  she  es- 
123 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

sayed.  "Willa,  your  room  is  a  dream.  Don't 
you  think  it  splendid,  Mrs.  Hendrix  ? ' ' 

"I — I  cannot  recall  the  arrangement  very 
well,"  said  the  older  woman,  coldly. 

"Everything  of  yours  is  so  much  finer — 
handsomer!"  said  Willa,  deprecatingly,  to  her 
mother. 

"Finer!  Handsomer?"  queried  Dorothy. 
"What  has  fineness  or  handsomeness  got  to  do 
with  it,  dear?  It's  the — the — the  atmosphere 
that  makes  the  home."  She  laughed  de- 
lightedly. "This  is  home!"  she  declared. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  smiled  openly. 

"Mrs.  Chase  is  very  adaptable,"  she  said  to 
Willa;  "quickly  acclimated,  I  should  say." 

Willa  permitted  herself  the  expression  of  a 
disagreeable  half -smile. 

The  young  wife,  however,  held  herself  well 
in  hand.  She  would  not  allow  herself  to  be 
betrayed  into  notice  of  the  taunt. 

"I  believe  I  like  this  best  of  all,"  she  went 
on  happily,  looking  around  the  library.  Her 
eye  caught  sight  of  the  picture  over  the  mantel. 

124 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Oh,"  she  cried,  "I  didn't  notice  that!"  She 
moved  over  quickly  for  a  closer  view.  "Why, 
it's  you — Willa!  How  sweet!  And,  oh,  yes, 
you  were  a  little  beauty,  even  then.  And  who 
is  this  lady?  Why,"  she  exclaimed,  all  un- 
suspiciously, "it's  Mrs.  Hendrix." 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Willa  flatly,  unsparingly, 
"it's  my  mother." 

"Your — !"  Dorothy's  calm,  which  she  had 
been  so  long  fighting  to  maintain — indeed,  ever 
since  she  had  first  stepped  into  the  library  and 
into  sight  of  Mrs.  Hendrix  and  the  girl — broke 
completely.  Her  eyes  confessed  her  dismay. 
"You — Mrs.  Hendrix,  Willa 's  mother!  This 
— this  is  a  surprise!"  She  tried  to  laugh. 
With  all  a  woman's  pathetic  desire,  she  tried 
bravely  and  failed. 

"Why,  this  is  ridiculous!"  she  said.  But 
there  was  a  catch  in  her  voice  as  she  uttered 
the  commonplace  words. 

"Very  ridiculous!"  assented  Mrs.  Hendrix, 
without  any  effort  toward  a  propitiatory  smile. 

* '  How  absurd — how  presuming  I  have  been ! ' ' 
125 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

interjected  the  new  Mrs.  Chase.  l 'You  will  for- 
give, won't  you?"  she  said,  addressing  them 
both.  "Believe  me,  I  had  no  idea."  She 
paused  with  clasped  hands.  "Now,  what  shall 
we  do?"  she  asked,  glancing  from  one  to  the 
other,  but  still  meeting  no  response  of  at- 
tempted encouragement. 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Hendrix,  "now,  what  shall 
we  do  for  our  daughter?" 

"I  have  been  unpardonably  rude — brutal  al- 
most," said  the  bride,  painfully.  "My  only 
excuse  must  be  that  I  did  not  know.  All  this 
is  a  great  surprise." 

"Yes,"  said  Willa  uncompromisingly  to  her. 
"But  you  are  not  the  only  one  surprised  to- 
day." 

Dorothy  stared  at  her. 

"You  mean — you  mean,  you  knew  nothing  of 
your — your  father  did  not  write  of — of  our 
marriage  ? ' ' 

"No,  he  did  not."  The  girl  made  the  an- 
nouncement with  the  frank  brutality  of  youth. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  broke  in,  with  a  manner  flip- 
126 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

pantly  sarcastic:  "Geniuses  are  proverbially 
careless — eccentric,"  she  remarked;  and  then, 
with  significance:  "too  eccentric  for  some 
women." 

Dorothy  ignored  Mrs.  Hendrix;  but  she  im- 
pulsively put  out  her  hand  to  Willa. 

"Willa,  I  am  so  sorry!    Believe  me — " 

Yet,  Willa  drew  away;  her  manner  was  only 
too  plainly  repellent. 

' '  I  think  father  has  acted  very  strangely  and 
meanly  toward  me,"  she  declared. 

"But  he  loves  you  dearly,  Willa,"  Dorothy 
cried,  hastily. 

"He  did  love  me,"  cried  the  girl,  bitterly. 
"I  have  never  seen  this  side  of  his  love  before." 

"The  illusions  of  youth  fade  as  one  grows 
older,  my  child.  You  are  just  at  the  age  when 
a  girl  first  really  knows  her  parents.  The 
courts  have  provided  for  your  mature  choice." 
Thus  spoke  Mrs.  Hendrix,  with  a  charming 
smile,  directly  to  her  daughter. 

But  Dorothy  intervened.  Now  that  she  fully 
understood  the  meaning  of  the  storm-clouds  that 

127 


had  hovered  from  her  very  entrance  into  John 
Chase's  home  life  and  secrets,  she  had  dignity 
and  calm  in  resource  with  which  to  face  the 
situation. 

''Whatever  fault  there  is,  dear,"  she  said  to 
Willa,  "I  beg  you  to  lay  it  to  me.  I — I — 
should  have  written.  Your  father's  tenderness 
and  care  for  you  for  nineteen  years  put  his  love 
for  you  beyond  question,  his  actions  beyond  any 
necessity  of  defense  to  you.  The  courts  de- 
cided on  the  proper  one  to  have  charge  of  your 
bringing  up." 

"I  fear  our  daughter  will  be  sadly  muddled," 
said  Mrs.  Hendrix,  and  she  permitted  herself 
to  sniff  disdainfully.  "However,  Willa,"  she 
continued,  with  a  smile  of  false  sweetness, 
"Obey  your  step-mother,  dear.  I  hope  you  will 
pardon  the  intrusion,  Mrs.  Chase.  Good-morn- 
ing." 

"Good-morning,  Mrs.  Hendrix,"  said  Dor- 
othy, with  frank  relief. 

"I'll  go  to  the  door  with  you,  mother  dear," 
Willa  declared,  tenderly. 

128 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Mother  and  daughter  met  John  Chase  at  the 
door.  Mrs.  Hendrix  bowed  slightly,  and  Willa 
openly  drew  from  her  father  and  closer  to  her 
mother.  A  pang  of  fear  shot  through  the  man 
as  he  looked  after  the  two.  The  trouble  was 
in  his  eyes  as  he  turned  to  meet  the  reproachful 
gaze  of  his  young  wife. 


129 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  NEW  "MOTHER' 


did  not  send  the  letter  I  wrote  to 
Willa,"  Dorothy  said  to  him.  .  .  . 
Chase  did  not  reply.  "Why  did  you  not  send 
it?"  she  persisted.  "And,  above  all,  why  did 
you  not  write  yourself?" 

"I  did  write,"  he  said  at  last,  helplessly. 

"But,  surely,  she  didn't  get  it.  She  said  you 
hadn't  written  to  her." 

"I  did  not  send  either  letter — yours  or 
mine. ' ' 

"Why?"  There  was  an  innocent  wonder  in 
her  voice,  and  an  ingenuous  amazement  showed 
in  her  eyes. 

"Well,  I  had  written,  asking  her  to  come  to 
Nebraska — to  Lincoln.  She  refused.  That 
hurt  me  deeply." 

"But  Willa  is  young  in  knowledge  and 
130 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

views,"  his  wife  protested;   "a  mere  child." 
''Sometimes,  a  spoiled  child,  I  fear." 
"But  a  dear  child  at  heart,  I'm  sure,"  said 
Dorothy,    generously    and   warmly.    "Anyone 
could  tell  she  has  wonderful  possibilities  in  her 
nature.    She  is  one  who  can  be  made  or  spoiled 
so  easily!" 

"That's  good  of  you,  dear,"  declared  Chase, 
wholly  charmed.  "Don't  you  see,  I  did  not 
send  those  letters,  because  I  knew  Willa — and 
because  you  are  you !  I  knew  that,  with  an  even 
chance,  you  must  win  her.  I  did  not  wish  to 
prejudice  her." 

Dorothy  had  walked  over  to  one  of  the  old, 
wide  leather  chairs,  into  which  she  sank  wear- 

Hy. 

"Her  mother  has  seen  to  that,"  she  said, 
slowly. 

"Her  mother!"  Chase  almost  shouted. 
"Then—" 

Dorothy  nodded  her  confirmation  of  his  fear. 

"Yes.  A  charming  little  family  party, 
wasn't  it?  We  mothers  and  our  daughter!" 

132 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

She  had  tried  to  laugh,  but  her  tones  be- 
trayed the  bitterness  that  she  felt. 

''Dorothy!"  remonstrated  Chase. 

But,  now,  without  effort  to  conceal  the  un- 
pleasantness of  the  feeling  that  had  swept  over 
her,  his  young  wife  went  on: 

"Don't  you  think  you  might  have  spared  me 
the  humiliation  of  finding  out  for  myself?" 

"That  woman!"  cried  Chase,  furiously. 
This  woman,  whom  he  had  once  loved  devotedly, 
had  wronged  him  before ;  she  had  made  desolate 
his  home  —  this  former  wife  of  his ;  and,  now, 
like  an  evil  spirit,  she  had  come  to  becloud  the 
new  sunshine  of  happiness  that  he  had  coaxed 
into  his  home.  This  was  the  thought  that 
flashed  through  Chase's  mind,  distorting  his 
face  with  anger  and  indignation. 

But  Dorothy  herself  had  grown  calm. 

"She  is  your  child's  mother.  She  is  that! 
Whatever  else  she  may  be,  I  cannot  overcome 
that."  The  young  wife  shook  her  head  rue- 
fully. "And  I  looked  forward  to  this  home- 
coming so  joyously!  I  thought  this  would  be 

133 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

an  ideal  home-coming — that  we  three — "  But 
what  more  she  would  have  said,  she  found  at 
this  moment  quite  beyond  her  powers  of  expres- 
sion. She  halted  in  speech,  and  simply  looked 
at  him  with  pained  and  sorry  eyes. 

il Won't  it  be,  dear,  after  all?"  pleaded 
Chase.  "I  think  that  we  can  make  it  ideal." 

"Well,  nothing  has  been  spared  to  make  it 
complete  at  any  rate,"  sighed  the  bride. 
"Even  the  first  wife  on  hand  to  welcome — " 
she  paused,  tapping  the  toe  of  her  shoe — "to 
welcome  and  to  warn, ' '  she  concluded. 

"Wife!"  declared  Chase,  half  beside  himself. 
"You  are  my  wife!  You  are  Willa's  mother." 
He  put  out  his  hands  to  her.  "Oh,  Dorothy, 
don 't  you  fail  me ! "  he  pleaded.  "  I  Ve  counted 
on  you  for  that — Willa  so  needs  a  mother!" 

"I'm  afraid  I  can't  be  that  now,"  said  his 
wife. 

"Dorothy — that  woman — "  he  began  to 
storm. 

But  the  bride  interrupted  him,  with  a  flare  of 
anger: 

134 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"That  woman — she  matters  nothing  to  me. 
Do  you  suppose  I  need  you  to  tell  me?  I  am 
a  woman  myself.  I  can  see  what  she  is.  It  is 
you — you,  who  have  deceived  me — who  have 
hurt  me!" 

John  Chase  impulsively  moved  toward  her, 
catching  her  in  his  arms. 

"Dorothy,  I — I  have  hurt  you?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered.  "You — you  told  me 
nothing.  You  let  me  come  here — let  me  meet 
her.  Even  then,  you  told  me  nothing." 

"I  couldn't  tell  you  then,"  he  protested. 

She  shook  her  head,  unconvinced. 

"You  might  have  prevented  me  from  making 
a  fool  of  myself — kept  me  from  prejudicing 
your  daughter,  at  the  outset.  It  will  take 
years  to  win  back  what  I  lost  with  her  this 
morning. ' ' 

Even  as  Dorothy  spoke,  Willa,  returning 
from  bidding  farewell  to  her  mother,  paused  at 
the  library  entrance.  Unseen  by  them,  she 
scanned  her  father  and  his  bride  with  childish 
sullenness.  Then,  vouchsafing  no  word  of  her 

135 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

presence,  she  passed  on  with  stiff,  uncompro- 
mising bearing. 

"Why,  Dorothy,"  Chase  was  saying  at  the 
time,  "she  can't  care  for  that  woman,  who 
never  cared  even  to  see  her  for  ten  years. ' '  He 
drew  her  more  closely  into  his  arms.  "You 
help  me  keep  her — keep  my  daughter,  my  little 
girl.  Won't  you,  Dorothy?" 

But  Dorothy  was,  naturally,  thinking  chiefly 
of  herself  just  then. 

"Now,  I'm  married — and  you  have  deceived 
me.  Oh,  John,  how  could  you!  Why  did 
you?" 

' '  Dorothy — my  wife ! "  he  appealed  to  her  in 
alarm. 

But  she  stood  unrelenting,  with  eyes  set,  face 
aggrieved,  wholly  unsympathetic  to  his  plea. 

"Willa — oh,  Willa!"  sang  a  strong  young 
voice,  by  way  of  the  butler's  pantry.  At  the 
sound  of  it,  Dorothy's  face  underwent  a  quick 
transition.  She  looked  up  in  alarm,  half-puz- 
zled. Young  Hendrix  came  bounding  into  the 
room  with  a  lover's  eagerness.  Of  course,  as 

136 


lie  realized  the  presence  of  Mr.  Chase  and  this 
woman,  he  stopped  short. 

1 '  Oh — I — I  beg  your  pardon, ' '  he  said.  And 
then,  his  eyes  wide  with  surprise,  he  cried, 
"Why— Dor— Miss  Elliott!" 

Chase  looked  in  angry  astonishment  at  the 
young  man  who  had  entered  so  suddenly  and  so 
unceremoniously  by  way  of  the  butler's  pantry 
— a  young  man  whom  he  did  not  know  at  all. 

Dorothy,  laughing,  agitated,  further  aston- 
ished her  husband  by  holding  out  a  somewhat 
trembling  hand  to  the  arrival. 

' '  This  is  a  day  of  surprise, ' '  she  said.  ' '  Why 
— I  haven't  seen  you,  Jack  Hendrix,  since  three 
years  ago  in  Lincoln." 

At  this  impetuous  statement,  Chase  openly 
scowled  on  the  handsome  young  fellow,  who 
stood  vis-a-vis  with  his  newly-won  wife. 

Dorothy,  with  ease  nearly  recovered,  contin- 
ued: 

"Let  me  introduce  you  to  my  husband,  Mr. 
Chase — Mr.  Hendrix." 


137 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   BOSS 

r  INHERE  had  never  come  anything  more  than 
-L  a  truce  in  the  relations  between  Willa  and 
Dorothy  in  the  months  that  followed  the  young 
wife's  advent  into  the  Chase  household.  It  had 
not  been  a  well-kept  truce  either,  on  Willa 's 
part.  Occasionally,  a  shot  of  satire  or  petulance 
cracked  sharply  in  the  tense  atmosphere. 

Had  Willa  been  left  without  outside  influ- 
ence in  the  matter,  it  is  wholly  probable  that, 
in  the  end,  Dorothy  and  she  would  have  been 
good  friends.  Certainly,  the  youthful  step- 
mother left  no  stone  of  graciousness  unturned. 
And  Willa,  spoiled  by  her  father's  indulgence, 
full  of  admiration  for  the  gorgeous  mother  who 
was  denied  her,  but  whom  from  time  to  time  she 
surreptitiously  saw,  secretly  found  much  to  like, 
much  that  was  gentle  and  admirable,  in  Dor- 

138 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

othy.  But,  in  the  tempestuous  emotionalism 
of  youth,  she  kept  alive  her  feeling  of  resent- 
ment, and  that  usurpation  of  the  first  place  in 
her  father's  love  which  the  other  woman  held 
offended  her  always.  Persistently,  she  refused 
to  consider  the  essential  differentiation  in  the 
character  of  this  love.  Moreover,  were  she 
ever  ready  and  willing  to  concede  Dorothy  the 
wife's  due  place  and  position,  there  was  always 
the  influence  of  her  mother — an  influence  deftly 
and  resentfully  used  against  John  Chase,  to 
keep  constantly  in  the  girl's  mind  a  sense  of 
loss.  It  was  the  mother's  purpose  to  make  her 
child  realize  that  she,  who  could  have  done 
so  much  to  make  her  daughter's  life  brilliant 
socially,  was  denied  the  exercise  of  her  power. 

Young  Mrs.  Chase,  returning  from  a  round 
of  afternoon  calls,  sought  the  library,  her  favor- 
ite room.  There  was  pleased  anticipation  in 
her  eyes  as,  addressing  Maria,  she  said : 

"Serve  tea  here.  I  don't  expect  anyone  but 
Mr.  Chase  and  Willa  to-day.  And  Mr.  Chase 
— has  he  come  home ! ' ' 

139 


"No,  ma'am." 

"Or  anyone  called  for  me?" 

"No,  ma^am.  But  an  express  package  came 
for  you — from  Lincoln,  Nebraska." 

Dorothy  was  openly  delighted  with  this  news. 

"Then,  it  did  come.  Good!  Bring  it  in 
here,  Maria,  without  opening  it."  Then,  as 
Maria  turned  to  go,  she  recalled  the  servant. 
"Say  nothing  to  anyone  about  that  package, 
Maria.  You  see,"  she  said,  with  a  smile;  "it's 
a  birthday  present  for  Mr.  Chase — a  surprise. ' ' 

"Oh,  no,  ma'am!"  said  Maria,  enchanted  by 
her  mistress's  confidence.  "I  wouldn't  say 
nothing — indeed,  ma'am,  I  wouldn't." 

When  she  stood  alone,  Dorothy  looked  at  the 
old  clock  of  the  library,  and  then  hastened  to 
the  telephone. 

"Cortlandt,  4,507,"  she  called.  "Is  that 
4,507,  Cortlandt?  Speak  with  Mr.  Chase, 
please."  She  looked  surprised  and  irritated. 
"Why  this  is  Mrs.  Chase."  As  silence  fol- 
lowed on  the  other  end,  she  murmured: 
' '  Whom  did  he  suppose  it  was  ?  Oh,  is  that  you, 

141 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

John?  This  is  Dorothy.  The  boy  seemed  to 
think  it  was  someone  else.  Oh,  yes!  I  know 
they  have  to  ask.  But  that  doesn't  mean  that 
I  get  used  to  it,  or  like  the  idea  of  being  bullied 
by  the  office  boy.  I  never  had  to  ask  in  Lincoln, 
you  know. ' ' 

"Well,  what  is  it,  dear?"  came  Chase's  voice 
laughingly  back  at  her. 

"Well — er — well,  to  tell  the  truth,  nothing," 
she  laughed  back  at  him,  "except  why  are  you 
so  late?  Oh,  dear,  one  would  think  John,  my 
husband,  that,  among  your  other  inventions, 
you  had  a  patent  on  the  word  '  business. '  And 
besides,  this  is  your  birthday,  John,  and  I  have 
a  surprise  for  you — come  all  the  way  from 
home — from  Lincoln."  She  laughed  gaily. 
"No — not  mother,"  she  called  to  him,  "it's  a 
pleasant  surprise."  But,  instantly  afterward, 
she  looked  troubled.  *  *  Oh,  I  'm  so  sorry,  dear ! ' ' 
she  continued.  "I  hope  it  isn't  serious.  Oh, 
then  you  mean — of  course — of  course,  I  know 
you  can't  talk  over  the  'phone.  But  come  up 
as  quickly  as  you  can — just  as  soon  as  you  get 

142 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

through  with  the  lawyer.  Tell  me  all  about  it. 
I  hope  it  is  not  as  bad  as  you  think.  Good-by. ' ' 

John  Chase  turned  with  a  refreshed  smile 
from  this  little  talk  with  his  gracious  young 
wife,  for  the  conversation  had  broken  into  an 
afternoon  of  keen  business  cares.  Dorothy  left 
the  telephone,  looking  helpless  and  worried  at 
certain  news  he  had  given  her.  She  was  hardly 
prepared,  hardly  armed  with  her  usual  patience, 
when  Willa  entered.  So  she  bowed  slightly, 
and  left  the  room.  The  girl,  just  returning 
from  a  walk,  and  looking  rosy  and  fresh  under 
her  large,  black-plumed  hat,  nearly  collided 
with  Maria,  who  was  industriously  bearing  the 
flat,  square  express  package  from  Lincoln,  Ne- 
braska. 

Willa  was  in  good  spirits  from  her  walk. 
She  laughed  as  she  dodged  the  picture.  Then, 
as  Maria  placed  it  carefully  against  the  wall, 
she  said : 

* '  Oh,  Maria,  serve  tea  downstairs — will  you  ? 
I  expect  Mr.  Hendrix,  and,  perhaps,  Miss 
Thomas.  Better  make  it  for  five,"  she  added, 

143 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

as  an  afterthought.  "And  it's  late,  Maria. 
So,  hurry,  please." 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  Willa,"  said  the  servant, 
"but  Mrs.  Chase  told  me  to  serve  tea  up  here, 
for  you,  and  Mr.  Chase  and  her." 

Maria's  days  were  now  full  of  indecision,  as 
was  to  have  been  expected  in  one  seeking  to 
serve  two  mistresses. 

"But  I  told  you — "  Willa  began  angrily. 
She  cut  herself  short,  however,  and  compressed 
her  lips. 

"Well,  you  know,"  wheedled  the  privileged 
Maria ;  "I  have  to  do  what  she  tells  me.  She's 
the—" 

"You  mean,"  said  Willa,  her  eyes  narrowing, 
"that  she  is  what  you  call  'the  boss'?" 

"Well,  yes,  Miss,"  Maria  admitted.  "You 
know  what  he  told  me  last  time — about  the 
dogs?"  she  hastened  to  add,  defensively. 
"You'll  speak  to  her — won't  you,  Miss  Willa?" 

"Oh,  serve  it  anywhere,"  exclaimed  the  girl, 
in  a  gust  of  angry  impatience.  "Serve  it  on 
the  roof,  if  you  like.  Anyway — "  she  looked 

144 


THE  SECOND  WIPE 

toward  the  flat,  square  package,  "I  see  my  pres- 
ent for  daddy  has  come. ' ' 

"No,  Miss  Willa,  this  package  is  for  Mrs. 
Chase." 

"For  Mrs.  Chase?    What  is  it?" 

"I  don't  know,  Miss  Willa.  She  told  me  not 
to  say  anything  about  it." 

"Oh!"  said  Willa.  She  turned  from  con- 
templation of  it  with  assumed  indifference. 
"Well,  I'm  expecting  a  package,  too,  Maria." 

"It's  downstairs,  Miss.  It  came  while  you 
were  out." 

The  girl's  annoyance  of  the  moment  was  all 
forgotten,  and  she  clapped  her  hands. 

"That's  great!"  she  exclaimed.  "It's  a 
birthday  present  for  father — a  surprise! 
Don't  say  anything  about  it,  Maria.  Just  bring 
it  up  here,  at  once." 

"Yes,  Miss,"  said  the  servant.  Then,  the  old 
woman  stood  aside  from  the  doorway  at  the  en- 
trance of  Mrs.  Chase. 


145 


CHAPTER  XV 

CLOUDS    HOVER 

meeting  of  the  young  step-mother  and 
-•-  the  still  more  youthful  step-daughter 
wrought  an  involuntary  change  in  the  manner 
of  both,  as  their  coming  together  always  did. 
There  were  invariably  the  self-consciousness 
and  the  discomfort  of  the  strain  to  be  nice  and 
natural  toward  each  other. 

1  'Did  you  have  a  pleasant  walk?"  asked  Dor- 
othy. 

"Very  pleasant,  thank  you."  The  answer 
came  with  an  artificial  agreeableness  of  utter- 
ance. 

Young  Mrs.  Chase  cast  helpless,  uninspired 
eyes  around  the  room. 

"I  wonder  if  it  will  rain,"  was  the  best  re- 
sult she  got  out  of  a  great  effort. 

"Probably — sometime,"  said  Willa.  De- 
146 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

spite  herself,  she  added  the  last  word,  and  she 
found  herself '  intensely  annoyed  by  it,  in  its 
aspect  of  a  jibe. 

Then,  Dorothy,  all  unconsciously,  fell  athwart 
a  storm. 

"I  thought  it  would  be  nice  to  have  tea  up 
here  this  afternoon,"  she  said.  "It's  your 
father's  birthday,  you  know." 

This  reminder,  administering  a  quick  hurt  at 
the  idea  that  she  could  possibly  have  forgotten 
such  an  event,  caused  a  complete  breakdown  of 
Willa's  resolution  to  be  nice. 

"Of  course,  I  know  it's  father's  birthday," 
she  exclaimed,  indignantly.  There  was  a  world 
of  outraged  filial  affection  in  the  girl's  voice  as 
she  spoke. 

Dorothy  bit  her  lip,  to  suppress  any  display 
of  her  annoyance  at  Willa's  tone. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  imply  that  you  had  for- 
gotten it,  dear,"  she  said,  as  gently  as  she  could. 
"That  would  be  too  absurd!" 

"Eather!"  observed  Willa.  After  a  pause, 
she  looked  up,  quizzically,  at  her  step-mother. 

147 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  knew  his  birthday  long 
before  you  did,  yon  know,"  she  said,  curtly. 

Dorothy,  however,  refused  the  challenge. 

"I  thought  I  would  give  him  my  present 
at  tea,"  she  remarked,  pleasantly.  ''Why 
couldn't  we  both  give  him  ours  together?" 

"I've  always  been  accustomed  to  giving 
father  his  birthday  present  after  dinner ; ' '  said 
Willa,  uncompromisingly.  This  bald  statement 
led  to  another  awkward  pause  between  the  two 
women. 

"Well,  I  don't  suppose  it  makes  any  real 
difference,"  ventured  Dorothy. 

"Oh,  I  suppose  he  should  get  them  when  his 
wife  says  so,"  sighed  Willa.  "We'll  give  them 
to  him  at  tea." 

Maria  entered  now  with  Willa 's  gift — a  pack- 
age as  evidently  containing  a  picture  as  that 
which  Mrs.  Chase  intended  for  her  husband,  but 
larger. 

"Ah,  your  present,  Willa?"  questioned  Dor- 
othy. "Place  it  beside  mine,  Maria.  What  a 
big  present,  Willa!" 

148 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Well,  he's  my  father." 

"But  you  give  him  a  bigger  one  than  I  do,'* 
smiled  Dorothy,  in  an  attempt  at  lightness. 

"You  see,  I've  known  him  longer  than  you 
have,"  asserted  the  young  girl. 

Dorothy  still  tried  to  be  friendly. 

"What  is  it — the  present,  I  mean?" 

"What's  yours?"  came  the  curt  query,  as  an 
unhesitating  riposte. 

Dorothy  hesitated. 

* '  Mine 's — a — a — '  * 

"Well,  mine's  the  same  thing,"  said  Willa, 
hastily.  "It's  a  surprise." 

There  was  a  rapid  exchange  of  glances,  which 
became  almost  an  open  declaration  of  war. 
But,  just  then,  Maria  intervened,  asking: 

"Where  shall  I  serve  tea,  ma 'am  I" 

"I  told  you — up  here,  Maria,"  said  Mrs. 
Chase,  abruptly. 

Maria  looked  covertly  in  Willa's  direction. 

"Sure  an'  you  did,  ma'am,"  the  servant  re- 
plied to  Mrs.  Chase.  "Excuse  me  for  for- 
getting. An'  for  how  many,  ma'am?" 

149 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"For  three,  of  course." 

"I  am  expecting  someone  for  tea,  Dorothy," 
interrupted  Willa,  defiantly. 

"Willa!"  remonstrated  her  step-mother. 
"You're  not  having  anyone  to  tea  on  your 
father's  birthday.  You  know,  we  are  going  to 
give  him  his  presents  at  tea." 

"Heavens  alive,  Dorothy!"  returned  Willa, 
surrendering  to  complete  exasperation.  * '  How 
could  I  know  they  gave  birthday  presents  at  tea 
in  Lincoln,  Nebraska!" 

There  was  an  appalled  silence  for  a  minute. 
Then,  the  bride  rose  to  the  occasion. 

"Who's  coming — Edith?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Chase. 

"Yes — and  Jack  Hendrix,"  said  Willa,  chal- 
lengingly. 

"Willa!" 

'  <•  Why  not  Jack  Hendrix  f ' '  sneered  the  young 
girl,  suddenly.  "You've  known  him  longer 
than  I  have.  You  used  to  know  him  in  Lincoln. 
You  know  you  did ! ' ' 

"You  know  your  father  doesn't  like  him, 
150 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa,"  asserted  her  step-mother,  coloring  rap- 
idly. 

"Well,"  said  Willa;  with  a  toss  of  the  head, 
"there  are  some  persons  my  father  likes  whom 
I  don't!" 

"Really?"  The  color  on  Dorothy's  face 
deepened  to  a  tint  approaching  that  of  anger. 

"Besides,"  said  Willa,  "I  didn't  intend  that 
father  should  meet  Jack." 

Mrs.  Chase  shook  her  head,  reproachfully. 

"It  is  a  great  concession  your  father  has 
made — to  let  Jack  Hendrix  come  to  the  house 
at  all,  after  his  father  has  treated  your  father 
as  he  has." 

Willa  retorted  with  bitterness : 

"Please,  don't  remind  me,  Dorothy,  that  I 
can  receive  Jack  only  because  you  asked  father 
to  let  him  come." 

"I  am  not  reminding  you  of  anything,  Willa, 
except  that  this  is  your  father's  birthday,  and 
that  I  will  not  have  him  annoyed." 

"Well,  you  can't  blame  Jack,  because  father 
and  mother  are  divorced,"  cried  the  girl. 

151 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"And  it  isn't  my  fault.  Goodness  knows,  I 
wish  they  weren't!" 

"Willa,  you  forget  yourself!" 

"No,  I  don't  forget  myself.  I  don't  forget 
anything.  I  only  wish  I  could!" 

Dorothy  arose.  Her  cheeks  were  flaming. 
She  crossed  the  room,  and  stood  directly  in 
front  of  the  girl. 

"I  haven't  taken  any  of  your  love,  Willa," 
Dorothy  protested.,  "He  loves  you,  just  the 
same." 

"Yes,  a  little  of  him  loves  me,"  stormed 
Willa;  "loves  me  when  you  are  shopping,  call- 
ing— or  away — not  here — and  then,  when  any- 
body does  like  me,  you  object.  I  don 't  see  why 
you  should  object,  but  you  do  continually.  You 
have  all  his  love.  You  object  to  Jack  Hendrix's 
liking  me — " 

"I  object,"  said  Dorothy  firmly,  "to  your 
going  to  his  studio,  alone.  I  won't  permit 
that." 

Willa  gasped. 

'  *  Permit — you  won 't  permit ! — well ! ' '  Then, 
152 


hotly,  she  said:  "My  mother  was  there!  And 
he  was  painting  my  picture!" 

"Nevertheless,  your  father  must  choose  your 
associates,  Willa." 

"Do  you  mean  that  my  mother  is  not  fit  for 
me  to  associate  with!"  cried  Willa,  wilfully, 
passionately. 

"Willa,  please  don't  be  an  idiot,"  cried  Dor- 
othy, abandoning  conciliation  as  hopeless. 

"Dorothy,  don't  you  dare  to  say  anything 
against  my  mother,  don't  you  dare  to,"  the  girl 
insisted,  defiantly. 

"Willa,  you  are  ridiculous!"  the  woman 
frankly  said. 

"Oh,  I'm  ridiculous,  am  I!"  cried  Willa, 
fiercely.  "That  may  be  what  you  think — well, 
mother  doesn't  think  so.  My  mother  takes  an 
interest  in  me — she  cares!  Why,  if  she  could, 
she'd  do  what  you  can't  do;  and  what  father 
won't  do.  She'd  launch  me  in  society,  and 
make  me  somebody— and  give  me  all  her  love, 
besides."  Willa  paused  breathless,  but  only  to 
flare  anew.  "You  think  I'm  ridiculous,  do 

153 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

you?  Just  wait — some  day!  I  won't  be  able 
to  stand  this — just  wait ! ' ' 

"Willa!"  cried  Dorothy,  in  anger  and  dis- 
may. 

Thus  was  the  storm  raging  persistently  in 
his  household,  when  John  Chase  arrived  home 
for  tea  on  the  occasion  of  his  birthday. 


154 


CHAPTER  XVI 

RIVALRY 

,  sweethearts,"  called  the  hus> 
band  and  father  from  the  library  en- 
trance. There  had  come  a  pause  in  the  quarrel, 
and  "Willa 's  voice,  which  had  been  raised  high 
in  the  stress  of  her  anger,  had  not  reached  him 
as  he  hurried  from  the  street  entrance  to  the 
library. 

The  women  faced  each  other  awkwardly  for 
a  second  or  more;  then  both  turned  impul- 
sively, with  something  of  appeal  in  the  voice  of 
each. 

"Father!"  cried  Willa. 

"John!"  cried  Dorothy. 

As  both  ran  to  him,  Willa  was  a  trifle  in  the 
lead,  and  in  her  condition  of  supersensitive  at- 
tention to  the  comparison  of  every  little  detail 
of  her  father's  actions  as  between  herself  and 

155 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

her  young  step-mother,  her  lips  gave  a  wry 
twist  as  she  saw  that  her  father's  right  arm  first 
encircled  the  waist  of  his  wife — even  if  it  was 
only  a  fraction  of  a  second  before  she  felt  his 
left  arm,  warm  with  affection,  encircle  her  own 
slender  body. 

John  Chase  was,  in  his  big  man's  way,  half- 
unmindful  of  the  psychic  disturbances  in  the 
household,  although  so  intimate  and  vital. 

"How  are  you,  dears,"  he  said  exuberantly. 
1 1  This  is  splendid — getting  back  to  the  quiet  of 
home — after  downtown.  Now,  a  little  kiss  from 
both."  He  kissed  Dorothy  first,  she  returning 
the  embrace  affectionately.  But,  when  he 
would  have  kissed  Willa,  he  was  surprised  to 
find  that  the  girl  turned  her  cheek  away. 
"No?"  he  questioned.  "Aren't  you  going  to 
give  father  a  little  kiss,  on  his  birthday?  Now, 
now — "  he  pinched  her  cheek  playfully — "just 
a  little  kiss." 

Suddenly,  the  daughter  flung  her  arms  im- 
pulsively about  her  father's  neck,  and  held  to 
him  so  closely,  so  vigorously,  that,  for  a  mo- 

156 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

merit,  he  was  powerless  to  breathe.  He  laughed 
as  he  released  himself,  crying: 

"Don 't— don 't,  Willa,  dearie !  You '11  choke 
me!  Dorothy!  Help!  "Would  you  see  your 
husband  choked  to  death?" 

Willa  drew  away,  swiftly. 

"You  needn't  call  on  Dorothy  for  help,"  she 
remonstrated. 

Her  father  regarded  the  girl  in  puzzled  fash- 
ion. And,  as  Willa  shook  her  head  angrily, 
and  started  for  the  doorway,  he  cried: 

"Willa — Willa,  dearie,  come  back!  Choke 
me  to  death,  if  you  want  to — but  come  back." 

The  girl,  however,  only  shook  her  head  again, 
and  finally  ran  out  of  the  room. 

John  Chase  looked  inquiringly  at  his  young 
wife. 

"I — I  can't  say,  John,  what's  the  matter. 
You  know— Willa!" 

"What's  the  matter  with  her?"  the  husband 
asked,  anxiously.  "You  haven't  quarreled?" 

Dorothy  had  no  ready  assurance,  naturally, 
that  such  had  not  been  the  case.  It  was  a  sub- 

157 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ject,  in  any  event,  to  be  avoided  at  his  home- 
coming on  his  birthday. 

"Urn — no — just  the  same  old  thing !  Willa's 
nineteen.  I'm  twenty-five  and  her  step-mother. 
I  suppose  step-daughters  and  step-mothers  are 
natural  enemies." 

John  Chase  took  her  hand,  and  held  it. 

"Dorothy,  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  talk  like 
that,"  he  said,  seriously. 

"But,  John,"  she  protested  gently;  "nat- 
urally, Willa  resents  my  coming.  Her  mother 
sees  to  that." 

"Her  mother!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  wish  no 
intimacy  with  Mrs.  Hendrix!" 

His  wife  shook  her  head,  and  smiled. 

"We  are  not  in  the  Middle  Ages,  John,"  she 
answered.  "We  are  in  the  age  of  divorce — 
and  in  New  York.  Do  as  New  York  does ! ' ' 

"There's  a  right  of  blood,"  asserted  John 
Chase,  "above  any  right  of  divorce." 

"Yes,"  she  assented;  "Willa's  mother  tells 
her  that  about  every  time  they  meet." 

John  Chase  had  nothing  to  say  to  that.    He 
158 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

strode  rapidly  up  the  room,  and  down  again. 
He  laid  his  hands  on  his  wife's  shoulders. 

"Dorothy,"  he  pleaded,  "can't  you  adapt 
yourself  a  little  to  Willa!" 

"Adapt  myself?"  She  had  not  meant  the 
tone  to  be  harsh ;  but  it  was. 

"Yes — you  are  so  much  older  than  Willa," 
he  reasoned.  Incidentally,  he  reasoned  very 
crudely,  since  he  was  reasoning  to  a  pretty 
young  woman. 

"I'm  not,"  she  said,  indignantly;  "not  so 
very  much  older  than  Willa!" 

"But  you  seem  so  much  older!"  he  made 
haste  to  say,  smiling  at  his  blunder. 

"Why  don't  you  say  what  you  mean,  then?" 
she  laughingly  taunted.  "Do  I  look  so  much 
older,  John?" 

His  reply  was  to  catch  her,  and  kiss  her. 

"Dorothy,  I  never  stop  wondering  about  it," 
he  said. 

"Wondering  about  what?" 

' '  How  did  you  ever  come  to  marry  an  old  fel- 
low like  me  ? ' ' 

160 


"Old  fellow,  indeed!"  she  said,  patting  his 
cheek. 

"I'm  all  of  forty-five,"  he  answered  ruefully, 
"and  you — " 

"Now,  John,"  she  laughed,  in  her  good-fel- 
low way,  which  he  found  always  to  be  so  charm- 
ing, "don't  throw  my  youth  and  inexperience 
in  my  face.  Do  you  suppose  I  can  possibly  for- 
get it  with  a  nineteen-year-old  reminder  about 
the  house?" 

"Nineteen-year-old  reminder!" 

Then,  Dorothy  spoke  almost  to  herself,  with 
a  meditative  frown  wrinkling  her  brows. 

* '  I  wonder  if  I  would  have  married  you, ' '  she 
said,  "had  I  seen  you  and  Willa  together? 
Pretty  hard  problem,  you  know,  for  a  young 
girl  to  decide — an  old  man  with  a  nineteen- 
year-old  daughter!" 

"Dorothy,"  he  protested,  "I'm  only  forty- 
five!" 

"Yes,  but—" 

"Of  course,"  he  said,  "I  suppose — had  there 
been  any  younger  opposition — " 

161 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

His  voice  broke  off  in  a  sigh. 

1  *  John  Chase,  how  dare  you ! ' ' 

"Oh,  my  dear,  I  didn't  mean  that  you  had 
had  any  other  lover!" 

Again,  he  had  blundered.  A  little  flush 
showed  on  the  wife's  cheeks. 

"What!"  she  demanded.  "Do  you  presume 
to  think  that  you  were  the  only  man  to  ask 
me?" 

He  looked  at  her  crestfallenly. 

"You  were  in  love  before?"  he  asked. 

"Well,"  she  said  frankly,  "I  was  twenty-five 
when  you  married  me."  Her  tone  made  it  ap- 
parent that  she  regarded  the  assertion  as  a  suf- 
ficient answer  to  his  question. 

"Who  were  the  others?"  he  asked,  brusquely. 

She  smiled,  and  widened  her  eyes  at  him, 
tantalizingly. 

"What  a  memory  you  must  think  I  have!" 
she  replied,  demurely. 

"Who  were  they?"  he  reiterated.  But  Dor- 
othy merely  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and 

162 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

maintained   silence.     "Let  me   see,"  he   said. 
"There  was  that  red-headed  Potts!" 

"Well,"  she  admitted,  "I  always  adored  red 
hair."  At  this,  the  husband  frowned.  "But 
think  of  getting  a  letter  addressed,  'Mrs. 
Potts'  .  .  .  Ugh!" 

"And  that  ugly  Johnson!"  Chase  went  on. 

"Ah!"  Dorothy  exclaimed,  enthusiastically. 
"Wasn't  he  fascinatingly  ugly?  And  do  you 
know,  John,  some  of  the  happiest  moments  of 
my  life  have  been  spent  riding  with  Dick  John- 
son?" 

"Indeed!"  Chase's  ejaculation  was  charged 
with  displeasure. 

"But,  then,"  she  conceded,  "one  can't  ride 
horseback  through  life — can  one?" 

"Huh!"  he  grunted,  in  no  way  mollified. 
"Let  me  think  of  some  others." 

"Well,  now  you've  started  me,  I  can  think  of 
lots,"  she  said,  cheerfully. 

"Really?" 

"Yes.    There  was — " 
163 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  remember  one  more,"  interjected  Chase, 
angrily.  ' '  Young  Hendrix.  You  knew  him  out 
there. ' ' 

This  shot  caused  Dorothy  to  stop  in  her  play- 
ful excursion  into  memory.  In  fact,  a  marked 
embarrassment  came  over  her,  and,  had  her 
husband  been  keener  at  reading  feminine 
signs,  he  would  have  realized  that  here,  at  last, 
he  had  touched  upon  a  serious  affair. 

"Why,  John — why,  you're  absurd!"  she 
said,  with  an  exaggerated  manner  of  chaffing. 
"Do  you  think  everybody  was  in  love  with  me, 
just  because  you  were?  Why — why,  that 
doesn't  do  any  credit  at  all  to  your  originality, 
you  know. ' ' 

He  lifted  his  head  at  the  reassurance,  and 
flung  himself  into  a  chair  with  an  action  slightly 
in  the  likeness  of  a  swagger. 

"Of  course,  I  know,"  he  said  confidently, 
"that  you  could  never  think  twice  of  an  im- 
pertinent boy  like  that.  But  I  noticed  how 
embarrassed  he  was,  at  the  moment  of  meeting 
you." 

164 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

The  wife  went  to  him,  and  wreathed  her  arms 
happily  about  his  neck. 

"You  dear  old  thing!"  she  cried. 

"Dear  old  thing !" 

"I  really  do  believe  you're  jealous!"  she  as- 
serted, joyfully. 

"I — jealous!"  he  blustered.  "The  idea — 
absurd!  But  he  does  keep  coming  here." 

"Naturally,  he  comes,"  she  answered,  with- 
out consideration.  l '  Willa 's  in  love  with  him ! ' ' 

John  Chase  stared  at  his  wife.  His  amaze- 
ment was  profound. 

"What— in  love!  With  my  Willa?"  he  de- 
manded. He  drew  away,  his  face  a  mask  of  dis- 
may. "Willa — in  love?  That  little  girl — 
and  with — with  Hendrix's  son!  I  can't  believe 
it!" 


165 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  NEW  MOTHER'S  QUANDARY 

IT  was  some  time  before  John  Chase  could 
realize  that  what  Dorothy  had  announced 
was  really  true.  Parents  find  it  hard  to  realize 
the  growth  into  manhood  of  their  sons;  into 
womanhood  of  their  daughters.  So,  now,  he 
merely  stared  at  his  wife,  repeating: 

' '  What  f    In  love !    My  Willa  1 ' ' 

"Of  course,  she's  in  love.  Didn't  she  have 
the  measles?"  smiled  Dorothy,  at  a  loss  to 
appreciate  her  husband's  overwhelming  aston- 
ishment. 

"Well,  then,"  he  declared,  "I'll  stop  this 
foolishness — I'll  stop  his  coming  here.  Do  you 
think,"  he  demanded  further,  and  with  increas- 
ing wrath, ' '  that  I  can  permit  any  intimacy  be- 
tween my  daughter  and  the  son  of  the  man  who 

166 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

has  been  my  bitterest  enemy  for  years,  who  is 
even  now  trying  to  steal  my  patents?" 

"Steal?"  Dorothy  repeated,  incredulously. 

"Yes.  Hendrix,  through  one  of  his  com- 
panies, has  brought  an  injunction  suit  against 
my  patents,  claiming  infringements." 

Dorothy  shook  her  head,  in  puzzled  fashion. 

"I  don't  quite  understand,  John,"  she  said, 
"because,  only  yesterday,  Jack  Hendrix  told 
me  that  his  father  wanted  to  buy  your  patents, 
and  that  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  you  to 
sell.  Let  me  speak  to  Jack  Hendrix,  and  clear 
this  matter  up." 

"Dorothy,"  exclaimed  Chase,  "you  haven't 
been  discussing  my  business  with  young  Hen- 
drix?" 

"Why,  no,  John,  but—" 

"Speak  to  young  Hendrix!"  stormed  Chase. 
« <  Why,  he  is  vice-president  of  the  company  that 
brought  the  suit." 

"What  horrible  injustice!"  his  wife  ex- 
claimed, sympathetically.  "Can  nothing  be 
done?" 

167 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I'll  know  to-night,"  he  replied,  frowning. 
"A  representative  of  the  company  will  be  here 
to-night.  That's  what  I  meant  over  the  'phone 
a  while  ago.  They  may  just  be  trying  to  make 
me  sell  cheap.  But,  if  it's  a  fight — "  Chase 
clenched  his  hands. 

"Yes!"  interrogated  Dorothy. 

Chase  paused,  and  studied  his  wife's  coun- 
tenance tenderly. 

"Could  you  live  poorer,  dear?"  he  asked. 
"I  mean,  Dorothy,  that  I've  staked  every  dollar 
on  this,  and,  if  we  lose — "  He  broke  off  with 
a  hopeless  gesture. 

"Oh,  I'm  ashamed!"  she  cried,  putting  out 
her  hands  to  him. 

"Ashamed?" 

"Yes,  I'm  your  wife.  I  love  you,  and  I've 
done  nothing.  I've  just  rattled  on,  while  you 
were  in  trouble.  I've  done  nothing  to  help — 
nothing  to  give  you  courage. ' ' 

"Why,  just  having  you  here — that  gives  me 
courage,  as  long  as  we  are  together,"  he  pro- 
tested, and  his  glance  was  very  tender. 

168 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"We'll  be  together,  John,  straight  through, " 
she  told  him,  fondly.  The  kiss  that  followed 
was  interrupted  by  Maria,  announcing : 

''Miss  Thomas,  ma'am." 

Close  upon  the  utterance  of  the  visitor's 
name,  entered  smart  and  pretty  Miss  Edith 
Thomas.  With  her  came  a  waft  of  perfume, 
a  rustle  of  skirts;  and  her  eyes  were  smiling. 
She  answered  the  greetings  of  the  host  and 
hostess  in  her  graceful  fashion  of  breeziness: 

"How  are  Dorothy  and  Mr.  Chase?"  she 
called.  There  was  a  kiss  for  the  wife  and  a 
hand-shake  for  the  inventor.  "Do  I  wish  you 
many  happy  returns?"  she  asked  him.  "You 
haven't  joined  the  never-have-any-more-birth- 
days club,  have  you?" 

"Not  I!" 

"Willa  asked  me  to  tea.    Where  is  she?" 

Chase,  remembering  Willa 's  departure  a 
little  while  before,  could  not  conceal  some 
traces  of  confusion. 

"I  think — I  think  she's  upstairs,"  he  said, 
uncertainly.  "She — she  wasn't  feeling  very 

169 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

well.    Er — I'll  see  if  she's  all  right  now — if 
you'll  excuse  me." 

When  he  had  gone,  Edith  asked  frankly  of 
Dorothy : 

"Now,  what's  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  the  same  old  thing,"  the  step-mother 
replied,  wearily.  "Willa  seems  to  be  jealous 
of  me. ' ' 

Pretty  Miss  Thomas  made  a  slight  grimace. 

"I  hope,"  she  said  fervently,  "that  the  Lord 
will  give  me  sense  enough  to  pass  up  widowers 
• — grass  and  sod." 

"Edith!" 

But  Edith  made  no  apology. 

"Dorothy,"  said  she,  "why  don't  you  marry 
her  off!" 

* '  To  whom  f    Jack  Hendrix  ? ' ' 

"No,"  said  Edith  decisively;  "I  wouldn't  do 
that — even  to  my  step-child.  Is  she  in  love 
with  him?" 

"Yes,"  Dorothy  nodded. 

"All  right,  then,  we'll  marry  her  off  to  him. 
I'll  do  it." 

170 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Dorothy,  reclining  in  one  of  the  big  chairs, 
examined  the  tiny  tip  of  a  neat  slipper, 
judiciously. 

"Yes — yes,  dear,"  said  she.  "But,  some- 
time, probably,  you'll  be  enough  in  love  with 
your  husband  to  do  only  what  he  wants,  even 
if  it  hurts." 

"Well,  if  that's  love,"  said  Miss  Thomas, 
"not  for  mine." 

"Her  father  is  crazy  about  Willa.  It  would 
simply  break  his  heart  to  lose  her.  And  to 
lose  her  to  young  Jack  Hendrix — that,  I  am 
afraid,  he  would  never  consider — never,  for  an 
instant. ' ' 

"So,  you  must  break  it  up?" 

"Yes,"  said  Dorothy,  unable  to  keep  a  tinge 
of  regret  from  her  voice. 

Miss  Thomas  stared  at  her  friend  from  head 
to  feet,  and  back  again. 

"Dorothy,"  she  asked,  "how  do  you  manage 
to  keep  your  temper  with  that  girl?  You  used 
to  have  such  a  frightful  one  yourself  at  school ! 
Eemember  I ' ' 

171 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"  Getting  married  teaches  you  a  lot  of  things, 
old  girl,"  laughed  young  Mrs.  Chase;  "that 
is,  if  you  love  your  husband." 

"Oh,  slush!"  observed  Miss  Thomas,  ir- 
reverently. "You'll  open  up  on  her  some  day, 
and  my  only  hope  is  that,  when  it  happens,  I'll 
be  around.  I  think  it  will  probably  be  a  very 
particularly  interesting  occasion." 

"Nonsense!"  remonstrated  Dorothy.  But, 
immediately  afterward,  she  wrung  her  slender 
hands.  ' '  Oh,  I  wish  I  knew  what  to  do ! "  she 
cried. 

Miss  Edith  Thomas  sat  suddenly  upright. 
Then,  she  clapped  her  hands,  in  delight  over 
the  dawning  of  some  brilliant  idea. 

"Why,  I  have  it — I  have  it,"  she  hastened 
to  say.  "Tell  Willa  about  you  and  Jack  in 
Lincoln — that  will  fix  it. ' ' 

When  Edith  cried,  "I  have  it,"  Dorothy  had 
leaned  forward  eagerly,  to  give  heed  to  the  plan. 
But,  now,  she  collapsed  in  disgust. 

"Yes,"  she  assented  ironically;  "that  would 
fix  it." 

173 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"You  bet  it  would!"  gurgled  Edith.  "I  can 
just  see  Willa ! ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Dorothy,  solemnly;  "so  can  I!" 

"When  she  finds  out  that  step-mamma  and 
lover  used  to  be  engaged — oh,  joy ! ' ' 

"Good  gracious,  Edith,  are  you  crazy?" 
Dorothy  protested.  "Mr.  Chase  even  doesn't 
know  about  that  silly  old  affair." 

"No,  indeed!"  said  Miss  Thomas,  winking. 
"I  hardly  supposed  that  you  had  been  fool 
enough  to  tell  him  that  you  know  how  men  are." 

Dorothy  patted  back  a  few  rebellious  strands 
of  hair  at  her  temple. 

"Jack's  been  such  a  dear!"  she  commented. 
"Never  by  a  word  or  a  look  has  he  brought  up 
the  subject.  Eeally,  Edith,  I  was  terribly  fool- 
ish that  summer,  when  he  was  painting  scenes 
around  our  home. ' ' 

' '  Oh,  yes, ' '  assented  Edith.  ' '  Her  first  good- 
looking  young  painter  is  always  an  epoch  in  a 
girl's  life."  She  smiled  reminiscently,  and 
fluttered  her  slender  gloved  hand.  "I  sat  for 
Jack  myself,"  she  added,  sympathetically. 

174 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Nonsense!"  was  Dorothy's  unappreciative 
comment.  "But,  if  father's  terrible  word-pic- 
ture of  Tom  Hendrix  had  not  obliterated  the 
effect  of  all  Jack's  efforts  on  canvas,  there's  no 
telling — "  She  shook  her  head  dubiously. 

"Isn't  it  interesting,  dear,"  observed  Miss 
Thomas,  "to  talk  over  the  ones  we  might  have 
had!"  She  giggled  amusedly  at  this  flippant 
fancy. 

"Well,  he  must  not  get  Willa,"  said  Dorothy, 
with  finality. 

"Then,  make  her  jealous.  Drop  a  line.  Let 
her  find  out  that  you've  been  to  his  studio, 
also.  Forget,  of  course,  that  I  was  along.  It 
would  certainly  get  a  beautiful  rise  from  a  cer- 
tain young  lady. ' ' 

"Good  gracious,  Edith!  I  have  to  live  in 
the  house  with  Willa ! ' ' 

"Well,  it  certainly  would  make  living  in- 
teresting." Then,  having  plotted  the  most 
maliciously  she  knew,  Miss  Thomas  arose. 
"Here's  the  devil  now,"  she  said,  for  Maria 
had  appeared  to  announce,  "Jack  Hendrix." 

175 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Edith  met  the  newcomer  at  the  door,  and 
took  her  departure  to  find  Willa.  Jack  Hen- 
drix,  bowed  her  out,  then  made  his  way  to  the 
chair  before  which  Dorothy  was  standing  to 
receive 


176 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

EOSEMABY 

"  said  young  Hendrix,  "how  did 
your  father  like  the  picture  I ' ' 

Dorothy  colored  at  the  question. 

"I — I  haven't  heard  yet,"  said  she. 

"I  shipped  it  to  Lincoln  last  week,"  said  he; 
"but  even  the  express  is  sometimes  slow." 

"I'm  sure  it  must  have  got  there,"  Dorothy 
ventured. 

"Then,  father,"  he  observed  with  a  grimace, 
"is  probably  too  polite  to  say  what  he  really 
thinks  of  it." 

She  tapped  the  young  man's  arm. 

"Silly!"  she  exclaimed.  "It's  splendid,  and 
you  know  it  is.  I'm  almost  tempted  to  give  it 
to  my  husband." 

"Huh!"  said  Hendrix.  "That  is  a  com- 
pliment. ' ' 

177 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

'  *  Would  you  mind  ? ' '  she  asked,  with  sudden 
seriousness. 

"Why,  no,"  he  replied,  with  equal  gravity. 
"I'd  be  delighted,  on  the  contrary." 

"You  were  a  dear  to  finish  it  up,"  Dorothy 
said. 

"A  dear  to  finish  up  the  best  thing  I've 
done?"  demanded  the  artist.  "What  a  pity 
I  was  prevented  from  finishing  it  three  years 
ago!  I  realized  that  I  was  genuinely  inspired 
then.  I'm  afraid  the  finishing  touches  have 
not  been  up  to  the  original  mark." 

"Don't  be  ridiculous,  Jack.  You  know  you 
paint  much  better  now.  Think  how  much  older 
you  are." 

"But  the  inspiration — "  he  began,  in  con- 
troversy. 

"Oh,  any  fairly  good-looking  girl  is  an  in- 
spiration to  you,  Jack.  Willa's  portrait  is 
beautiful." 

"Willa  is  beautiful,"  said  the  young  man, 
earnestly.  He  hesitated,  and  then  added: 
"By  the  way,  pardon  my  mentioning  it,  but 

178 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

she  spoke  of  your  objection  to  her  being  at  the 
studio. ' ' 

"Yes — alone." 

"Oh!"  He  paused  for  reflection.  "Does 
she  know  that  you  also  sat  there1?" 

Dorothy  shook  her  head  negatively. 

"I  cautioned  Edith  not  to  say  we  were  there. 
No  one,  but  Edith  and  myself,  knows  you  were 
painting  me.  I'd  rather,  for  several  reasons, 
that  Willa  should  not  know." 

"Certainly.     No  one  shall  know  from  me." 

'  *  Thanks.  .  .  .  And,  now,  Jack,  I  want  to 
talk  to  you  very  seriously." 

"About  Willa?" 

"Yes,  about  Willa." 

"Well,"  he  said,  taking  a  seat  near  his 
hostess,  "what  is  it  you  would  say  to  me  about 
Willa?" 

Dorothy  regarded  the  young  man  for  a  few 
seconds  silently.  Then,  she  put  the  critical 
question  abruptly: 

"Jack,  have  you  really  asked  Willa  to  marry 
you?" 

179 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Is  this  Willa's  step-mother,  officially  asking 
the  impecunious  suitor's  intentions?"  he  re- 
torted, with  a  quizzical  smile. 

"Well,  Jack,"  she  answered,  gently,  "you 
must  understand  the  situation.  You  are  your 
father's  son;  she  is  her  father's  daughter." 

"Good  Lord!"  he  cried,  with  a  quick,  angry 
lift  of  his  hands.  "We  did  not  ask  them  to  be 
our  parents." 

But  Dorothy  shook  her  head  resolutely. 

"Nevertheless,  they  are,"  she  told  him. 
"And  your  father  took  her  mother  from  Mr. 
Chase.  Now,  they  are  fighting  in  business. 
And  you  would  take  the  daughter,  too ! ' ' 

Jack  passed  a  hand  softly  up  and  down  his 
knee,  and  stared  at  the  floor.  It  was  evident 
that  the  situation  thus  boldly  presented  dis- 
turbed his  usual  cheery  optimism. 

"Say,"  he  said  finally,  "it  does  look  like  a 
Hendrix  trust,  doesn't  it?  Well,  nevertheless, 
I'm  for  further  combination."  Yet,  he  shook 
his  head  doubtfully,  just  the  same,  and,  when 
he  spoke  again,  it  was  of  another  subject. 

180 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Mrs.  Chase,"  said  he,  "we  have  never  yet 
talked  of  the  past — of  Lincoln,  three  years 
ago. ' ' 

"There  was  no  use  of  it,  was  there?"  she 
asked. 

"I  was  a  wild  kid  then,"  he  went  on,  with  a 
reminiscent  smile.  "You  taught  me  a  lot. 
This  has  never  come  up  between  us,  but  I  think 
now  is  the  time  to  speak  of  it.  I  was  in  love 
with  you  three  years  ago — desperately  in  love. 
But  it  was  a  boy's  courtship  for  an  older  woman 
— not  older  in  years,  of  course,  but  in  heart, 
in  feeling,  in  attitude  toward  life,  older  in  soul. 
"Why  I  felt  toward  you  like  the  kid  who  brings 
his  red  apple  to  school  for  teacher." 

"And  the  kid  grows  up,"  she  said,  half- 
tenderly. 

"But  the  teacher  is  just  as  attractive,"  he 
smilingly  interrupted. 

"Only,"  she  added,  "the  little  girl  with  the 
pigtails  has  been  growing  up,  too."  She 
paused,  and  regarded  Jack  demurely. 

"And  one  day,"  he  said,  "well,  the  kid  just 
181 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

wishes  that  the  whole  world  were  just  one  big 
red  apple." 

"To  give  to  the  little  girl  with  the  pigtails," 
she  concluded. 

He  nodded  emphatic  assent. 

' l  Yes, ' '  he  agreed  softly.  ' '  Now,  why  do  you 
fight  for  her?" 

"Why  shouldn't  I  fight  for  her?  Isn't  she 
my  daughter,  too?" 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"You  are  Willa's  step-mother.  Even  though 
you  were  a  more  wonderful  woman  than  you 
are,  you  would  yet  be  her  step-mother.  You 
have  a  part — a  large  part — of  the  love  that 
for  ten  years  she  had  alone.  She  feels  that. 
Now,"  he  asked  urgently,  "if  she  went, 
wouldn't  her  going  make  it  easier  for  you?" 

"For  shame!"  Dorothy  interrupted,  indig- 
nantly. 

"I  do  love  Willa,  Mrs.  Chase.  Truly  and 
seriously,  I  love  her,  and  I  hope  she  cares  for 
me." 

"Then,  wait." 

182 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Why  wait!11 

"But  Willa  is  very  young." 

"Nonsense!"  he  asserted.  It  was  plain  that 
he  had  no  respect  for  this  suggestion  of  a 
barrier. 

' '  Wait  two  years.    Think  of  her  father. ' ' 

"Think  of  me,"  he  argued.  "He's  had  her 
for  nineteen  years." 

"I'm  sorry,  but,  frankly,  I  cannot  see  it  that 
way.  .  .  .  I  can't  do  it." 

Dorothy  arose.  The  color  crept  into  her 
cheeks,  and  her  eyes  flashed  when  next  she 
addressed  the  young  artist. 

"Jack,  I've  tried  to  give  you  every  chance 
to  be  fair,  but  you  won't  take  my  offering. 
Do  you  think  your  position  very  honorable — 
very  honest  even — making  love  to  the  daugh- 
ter, and  at  the  same  time  trying  to  ruin  the 
father?" 

"Good  heavens,  Mrs.  Chase!"  exclaimed 
young  Hendrix,  amazed.  Then,  he  laughed. 
"Whew!"  he  said.  "That  was  a  flash  of  the 
old  Dorothy  Elliott."  He  threw  up  his  hands 

183 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

in  mock  terror.  " Don't  shoot,  ma'am;  I'll 
come  down." 

But  she  continued  to  speak  energetically  and 
seriously : 

"You  seem  to  forget  the  suit  filed  to-day 
against  Mr.  Chase  by  your  company — the  suit 
that  may  ruin  him." 

It  was  very  evident  to  Mrs.  Chase  then  that 
the  astounded  lift  of  Jack  Hendrix's  eyebrows 
and  his  startled  attitude  were  genuine.  For 
a  second  he  seemed  unable  to  speak. 

"By  my  company?"  he  faltered,  finally. 

"Yes — the  company  of  which  you  are  vice- 
president — the  suit  it  has  brought  against  Mr. 
Chase's  patents." 

A  light  of  understanding  flashed  over  the 
young  man's  countenance.  He  smiled  du- 
biously as  he  felt  in  an  inside  pocket  of  his  coat. 
He  produced  a  little  gilt-edged  note-book,  and 
began  rapidly  running  over  a  memorandum 
aloud. 

"Republic  Manufacturing  Company,  direc- 
tor; Union  Eubber  Company,  assistant  secre- 

184 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

tary ;  Northern  Electric,  director ;  Country  Ath- 
letic Club,  president. 

"No,"  he  laughed,  "I  guess  it  couldn't  be  the 
Country  Athletic  Club.  Ah,  here  it  is — Con- 
solidated Steel,  second  vice-president."  Then, 
after  a  pause,  he  added:  "I  don't  look  much 
like  the  second  vice-president  of  a  steel  com- 
pany— now,  do  I?" 

"So,"  she  said,  in  a  nettled  manner,  "it's 
merely  a  joke  to  you!" 

He  threw  out  his  hands. 

"Mrs.  Chase,  be  sensible,"  he  implored.  "I 
know  nothing  of  this.  I  wouldn't  have  known 
I  was  vice-president,  if  I  didn't  by  chance  hap- 
pen to  have  that  note-book  with  me.  I  know 
nothing  of  the  affair — believe  me."  He 
laughed,  cynically.  "I  don't  think  anybody  in 
father's  companies  knows  anything  about  them, 
but  himself.  His  directors  are  office  boys,  and 
his  janitor  is  the  biggest  incorporator.  He 
sticks  me  into  these  companies,  just  as  he'd 
stick  in  the  cook  or  the  chauffeur,  if  he  happened 
to  remember  their  names."  He  drew  himself 

186 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

up,  and  looked  the  woman  full  in  the  eyes. 
11  There's  only  one  thing  for  me  to  do  about 
this,"  he  announced.  ''I'm  going  to  see  Mr. 
Chase,  and  to  explain  my  position." 

She  put  up  a  warning  hand. 

"Mr.  Chase  won't  discuss  it  with  you,"  she 
said,  hastily.  Then,  she  looked  down  and  away 
from  him,  resuming  after  a  little  while  in 
low,  soft  tones.  "I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  "but 
— I  think  it  would  be  better  if  you  didn't  call 
here — after — under  the  circumstances.  I  hate 
to  say  this — I'm  sorry — but  surely — surely, 
Jack  Hendrix,  we  both  understand.  .  .  . 
Good-by." 


187 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DEFIANCE 

THIS  dismissal  from  the  lips  of  Dorothy, 
with  all  it  meant  of  imminent  peril  to  his 
ever  obtaining  Willa  for  his  wife,  left  young 
Hendrix  standing  dazed  before  the  mistress  of 
the  house.  Yet,  her  words  had  been  suffi- 
ciently clear,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 
decree  was  hopelessly  final.  He  had  half- 
turned  in  the  way  of  making  his  departure, 
when  Willa 's  voice  came  to  him,  first  in  joyous 
greeting,  and  then,  as  she  observed  the  presence 
of  Dorothy,  with  a  note  of  defiance. 

''Hello,  Jack!" 

"How  are  you,  Willa?"  he  said,  but  not  very 
exuberantly.  There  was  a  tense  pressure  in 
the  clasp  of  his  hand  as  he  held  hers. 

"I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Jack,"  she  said,  with 
a  certain  emphasis. 

188 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Thanks,"  lie  managed  to  say.  He  looked 
from  Willa  to  Dorothy  in  silence.  Then,  he 
smiled  uneasily.  "Well,  I  guess  I'll  be  going," 
he  volunteered,  at  last. 

"Jack!"  cried  the  amazed  Willa,  with  out- 
raged energy. 

Edith  Thomas,  who  had  returned  with  Willa, 
supplemented : 

"Going  away?" 

"Why,  I  asked  you  for  tea,"  remonstrated 
Willa. 

"Yes — but,  you  see — I — I  didn't  know 
then — "  he  stammered. 

Willa,  with  suspicions  aroused,  stared  first 
at  Jack,  and  then  at  Dorothy. 

"Oh!"  she  said.  "Then,  you've  learned 
something  since  you  came — something  to  make 
you  change  your  mind  about  staying." 

The  situation  was  decidedly  uncomfortable 
for  Jack.  He  hemmed  and  he  hawed;  he  cast  an 
appealing  look  at  Dorothy.  Finally,  he  said: 

«  Well— yes." 

"Mr.  Hendrix,"  said  Dorothy,  calmly,  "did 
189 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

not  know  it  was  your  father's  birthday  when 
he  accepted,  and,  .under  all  the  circumstances, 
he  thinks  it  better  not  to  stay."  She  turned 
fully  toward  him  for  confirmation.  "That's 
what  you  mean,  isn't  it?"  she  asked  him 
directly. 

"Er — ah — yes,"  he  grudgingly  assented  at 
last. 

' '  But  I  wish  you  to  stay, ' '  cried  Willa. 

"Ah,  Jack  Hendrix!"  interjected  Edith 
Thomas,  sweetly.  "You  certainly  are  a 
popular  boy;  there's  no  getting  away  from 
that." 

"Well,"  said  the  embarrassed  Hendrix,  "the 
only  thing  I  can  make  out  of  it  is  that  I  am  a 
liar,  either  way." 

The  statement  appeared  hardly  lucid  on  the 
face  of  it,  but  Willa  grasped  his  meaning,  in- 
tuitively. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "you  promised  Dorothy  to 
go?" 

Young  Mr.  Hendrix  swelled  his  chest  with  an 
assumption  of  great  indignation. 

190 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

''Promised?    No,  indeed.    The  idea!" 

Willa  sneered,  incredulously. 

"Of  course,  if  my  step-mother  wishes  it — 
go  by  all  means.  All  the  men  do  what  Saint 
Dorothy  wishes." 

"He  promised  nothing,  Willa,"  said  Dorothy, 
quietly. 

Willa  turned  from  her  with  a  gesture  expres- 
sing vexation. 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed  again  angrily;  and 
then,  with  tears  standing  in  her  eyes  she 
wheeled  impulsively  on  Jack: 

"I  want  you  to  go  now,"  she  cried.  "And — 
and  I  asked  you  particularly  to-day,  because  I 
wanted  to  bring  you  and  father  together.  He's 
always  in  a  good  humor  on  his  birthday,  and 
especially  so  to-day." 

Hendrix  could  not  refrain  his  eagerness  at 
this  announcement. 

"You  want  to  bring  your  father  and  me  to- 
gether!" he  said,  joyously. 

Dorothy,  hearing,  watched  Jack  keenly. 
She  was  on  the  point  of  going  over  and  inter- 

191 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

rupting  the  conversation,  but  thought  better  of 
it,  and,  instead,  followed  Miss  Thomas's  lead 
to  the  piano  at  the  other  end  of  the  room. 

"Of  course,"  assented  Willa  sweetly.  "I 
am  sure  this  would  be  the  very  occasion  to  bring 
you  and  dad  together." 

"Well,  then,"  he  said  earnestly,  "I'll  stay. 
Mrs.  Chase,  if  you  don't  mind,"  he  called,  "I 
think  I'll  stay.  Willa — Willa  wants  me  to  meet 
her  father." 

"You  had  better  change  your  mind,"  Dor- 
othy said,  in  kindly  fashion. 

"No,"  he  said,  with  determination,  "I  think 
I'll  stay." 

And  Willa  beamed  with  triumph  toward  Dor- 
othy and  then  with  tenderness  toward  her  lover, 
as,  with  an  open  display  of  fondness,  she  led 
him  toward  the  low  Oriental  lounge. 

"I'm  an  awful  fool,  I  know,"  she  whispered 
to  him. 

"You're  a  dear  to  want  me,"  he  said  ar- 
dently. 

"Yes,"  she  impulsively  confided;  "I'd  have 
192 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

made  you  stay,  if  I'd  had  to  break  your  neck, 
after  you'd  promised  her  to  go." 

Jack  Hendrix's  heart  dropped  with  a  thud. 
The  wind  was  all  out  of  his  sails. 

" Humph!"  he  ejaculated  dismally.  "You 
don't  give  a  fellow  much  of  a  chance  to  be  an 
egotist,  do  you?" 

1  'Why?"  asked  Willa,  with  an  air  of  the  ut- 
most innocence ;  "Did  you  suppose  really  it  was 
just  because  I  wanted  you  that  I  insisted  on 
your  staying?" 

But  there  was  a  merry  dance  in  her  eyes,  as 
Jack  declared: 

"I  hate  lying." 

"How  you  must  despise  yourself!"  she  said, 
sweetly. 


193 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    GIFTS 

IF  Willa  had  secured  one  triumph  in  causing 
Jack  Hendrix  to  remain  in  her  father's 
house  after  Dorothy  had  requested  his  with- 
drawal, there  was  another,  less  expected,  await- 
ing her.  For  Dorothy,  accepting  the  situation 
and  deciding  to  make  the  best  possible  of  it, 
came  forward  now,  and  said: 

"Well,  if  we  are  going  to  have  tea — here's 
Maria." 

"Oh,  yes!  Maria,  will  you  tell  father, 
please?" 

"And,  Willa,  won't  you  make  the  tea?"  asked 
Dorothy,  with  a  gracious  smile,  yielding  her 
place  as  hostess. 

Willa,  for  once,  was  thus  induced  to  show 
pleasure  at  an  action  of  her  step-mother. 

"Certainly,"  she  said  beamingly,  and  she 
194 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

busied  herself  immediately  with  the  tea-things. 

Even  over  so  trivial  an  affair  as  tea-cups, 
life's  comedy  and  irony  sometimes  flash. 

"How  many  lumps  do  you  take,  Edith?" 
asked  Willa. 

"One,  please." 

"And  Jack  takes  two,  with  lemon,"  smiled 
Willa.  "Oh,  you  see,  Jack,  I  know." 

"It's  queer,  Jack,"  remarked  Miss  Thomas, 
with  humor  in  her  large  eyes ;  "but  nearly  every 
girl  of  my  acquaintance  seems  to  know  just  how 
you  take  your  tea." 

Jack,  in  the  act  of  passing  Edith  her  cup,  was 
surprised  into  an  indignant : 

"Huh?"  And,  in  his  emotion,  he  nearly 
dropped  the  cup. 

"Please,  pass  this  one  to  Dorothy,  Jack," 
said  Willa,  sharply. 

As  he  did  so,  he  looked  into  the  cup. 

"Oh,  it's  sweetened,"  he  said.  "You  don't 
take  sugar,"  he  said  to  Dorothy.  He  missed 
the  angry,  suspicious  look  that  Willa  directed 
at  him  then. 

195 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Indeed,  it's  just  right,  Willa,"  said  Dor- 
othy, tactfully. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  gulped  young  Hendrix, 
aware  now  of  his  self-betrayal  to  Willa. 

"You  forget,  Jack,"  said  Edith  Thomas,  dul- 
cetly.  "This  isn't  Lincoln.  She's  married 
now,  and  doesn't  have  to  think  of  her  figure." 

"For  a  sense  of  humor,  commend  me  to 
Edith,"  observed  the  artist,  with  bitter  re- 
proach in  his  voice. 

"There  is  no  one  else  with  a  sense  of  humor 
just  like  Edith's,"  interposed  Dorothy.  Then, 
she  got  up  quickly,  straining  every  faculty  not 
to  appear  disconcerted  at  sight  of  her  husband, 
as  he  now  came  smilingly  toward  her. 

"Well,  children!"  he  called  cheerily.  But 
his  smile  suddenly  disappeared,  stiffening  as  it 
came  on  his  lips,  when  he  beheld  Jack. 

"Good-afternoon,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  he  said, 
with  cold  formality. 

"Good-afternoon,  Mr.  Chase,"  answered 
Jack  hopefully,  putting  something  more  of  cor- 
diality in  his  own  voice. 

197 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa,  now  that  her  father  and  lover  were 
face  to  face,  suffered  misgivings  of  her  own. 
These  she  tried  to  relieve  by  saying,  albeit  some- 
what breathlessly: 

"Er— this  is  jolly— isn't  it!" 

"Great!"  declared  Jack,  in  obligato. 

"Very  jolly!"  said  John  Chase,  grimly. 

"Well,  this  certainly  suits  my  sense  of 
humor,"  observed  Miss  Thomas — to  nobody  in 
particular. 

Dorothy  saw  that  trouble  was  near  to  an  out- 
break. She  tried  to  smooth  the  matter  as  best 
she  might. 

"Will  you  have  a  cup  of  tea,  John?"  she  said, 
in  tones  as  close  to  the  casual  as  she  could 
contrive  at  the  moment. 

"I  don't  care  for  tea,  thank  you,"  he  said, 
tartly.  He  turned  away,  as  though  it  were  his 
intention  to  leave  the  room  at  once. 

But  Willa  ran  over  to  her  father,  and  caught 
him  by  the  arm. 

"No — no — you  can't  run  away,  father!"  she 
198 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

cried.    "We  are  going  to  give  you  your  birth- 
day presents  now." 

John  Chase's  face,  however,  remained  so  set 
with  displeasure  that  Dorothy  ventured: 

"Perhaps,  your  father  is  bashful,  and  would 
rather  have  them  later,  Willa." 

"No!"  defied  Willa.  "You  said  he  was  to 
have  his  presents  at  tea,  and  he  shall  have  them 
at  tea." 

In  the  face  of  his  daughter's  anxiety,  Chase 
allowed  his  countenance  to  soften  somewhat. 

"Of  course,  dear,  if  you  wish,"  he  said, 
shortly. 

Even  Edith  Thomas  was  thrown  out  of  com- 
posure by  the  embarrassing  pause  that  followed. 
She  arose. 

"I  think  it's  time  for  me  to  go,"  she  said 
clearly,  and  laughed. 

Dorothy,  grasping  the  opportunity,  looked  at 
Jack  Hendrix  in  a  manner  of  command. 

"Are  you  and  Edith  going  to  walk  up  the 
Avenue  together?"  she  asked. 

199 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Young  Hendrix  stood  nonpulsed.  But,  fi- 
nally, he  answered,  with  an  obvious  effort  to- 
ward carelessness  of  manner: 

"Eh?  Er — yes — yes,  by  all  means.  I 
would  like  a  little  walk  with  Miss  Edith. ' ' 

But  this  way  out  of  the  dilemma  was  check- 
mated by  Willa. 

"No,  indeed,"  she  said,  vigorously;  "you  two 
cannot  go  now.  I  particularly  want  you  to  see 
my  father's  presents." 

"Delightful!"  said  Edith,  helplessly. 

"Er — of  course,  certainly,"  came  in  sur- 
render from  Jack  Hendrix. 

Willa  crossed  to  a  recess  in  the  wall,  and,  be- 
fore Hendrix  or  her  father  could  assist  her,  had 
brought  a  large  package  to  the  center  of  the 
room. 

"You'll  never  guess  what  it  is,"  she  said, 
mysteriously. 

In  this  emergency,  John  Chase  himself  now 
decided  on  making  the  best  of  matters  as  they 
stood.  Therefore,  he  took  the  package  from 
his  daughter  with  as  much  graciousness  as  he 

200 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

could  muster,  and  began  pulling  at  the  cords. 

"Better  open  both  presents  at  the  same 
time,"  he  said,  as  he  smiled.  "You  and  Dor- 
othy overwhelm  me.  What  are  they  both? 
They  look  like  pictures." 

"Washington  crossing  the  Delaware,"  es- 
sayed Jack,  lightly. 

' '  Or  somebody  skating  over  thin  ice, ' '  supple- 
mented Miss  Edith  Thomas,  pointedly. 

Meanwhile,  both  Dorothy  and  Willa  were 
busily  uncovering  their  offerings,  and  soon  each 
revealed  to  John  Chase  a  portrait.  Willa  held 
forth  a  picture  of  herself,  while  Dorothy  pre- 
sented at  the  same  instant  a  picture  of  herself. 

As  to  these  portraits,  they  were  not  only 
palpably  of  high  artistic  value,  but  were  also 
plainly  the  work  of  the  same  brush.  Chase  and 
Edith  were  lost  in  admiration,  but  Willa  was 
flashing  looks  of  fury,  first  from  Dorothy  to 
Jack,  and  then  to  the  canvas  on  which  Jack  had 
made  her  step-mother 's  portrait.  Dorothy  her- 
self could  not  conceal  her  annoyance,  which 
came  to  her  with  the  discovery  that  here  was 

201 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

the  explanation  of  Willa's  visits  to  Jack's 
studio.  It  was  clearly  shown  that  he  had  been 
making  the  girl's  portrait.  So,  where  she  had 
anticipated  making  a  unique  birthday  gift  to 
her  husband,  her  idea  now  stood  practically 
duplicated  by  Willa's.  Jack  himself  was  non- 
plused, and  Edith  Thomas  signified,  with  her 
usual  mischievous  smile,  a  perfect  comprehen- 
sion of  the  unfortunate  entanglement.  Chase 
alone  was  the  unconscious  one  in  his  attitude 
toward  the  predicament.  He  gave  enthusiastic 
expression  to  his  enthusiasm  over  the  pictures, 
ignorant,  of  course,  as  to  their  authorship. 

4 '  Splendid— both  of  them ! "  he  cried.  *  *  And 
a  great  idea !  And  you  thought  it  up  together, 
didn't  you,  dears?" 

Dorothy  turned  away. 

"Urn — um — no,"  said  Willa,  sulkily. 

"John,"  said  Dorothy,  "this  is  the  portrait 
of  me  you  used  to  admire  at  Lincoln.  You  re- 
member it,  don't  you?" 

"Oh,  to  be  sure,"  came  the  response  from  her 
husband,  still  immeasurably  pleased  at  the  gift. 

202 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  remember,  now.  At  first,  it  seemed  differ- 
ent." Then,  on  closer  examination,  he  added: 
"I  thought  it  was  a  new  one.  Some  young 
artist  did  it,  I  believe.  It  is  a  charming  piece 
of  work.  I  thank  you,  Dorothy. ' ' 

Then,  the  happy  father  turned  to  Willa 's 
portrait. 

"And,  Willa,"  he  went  on;  "yours  is  beauti- 
ful— splendid!  I  do  appreciate  this  delightful 
surprise.  We  must  hang  them  side  by  side." 
He  took  Willa  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  with 
much  tenderness.  "Thank  you,  dear,"  he  said, 
warmly. 

Now,  if  ever,  came  the  thought  to  Willa,  was 
the  propitious  time  for  young  Jack  Hendrix  to 
get  into  her  father's  good  graces.  So,  she 
spoke  as  bravely  as  she  might,  anxiously 
enough,  and  yet  with  something  of  the  spirit  of 
a  challenge. 

"I  want  you  to  thank  the  artist,  father." 

"Of  course,  I'll  thank  him,"  said  Chase, 
heartily.  ' '  Who  is  he  !  " 

"Here,"  the  girl  answered,  and,  with  a  half- 
203 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

triumphant  wave  of  her  arm,  she  indicated 
Jack. 

"With  due  modesty,  I  bow,"  laughed  young 
Hendrix,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and 
being  altogether  anxious  to  pass  the  matter  off 
lightly. 

Chase  looked  at  the  young  artist  with  grow- 
ing astonishment.  As  comprehension  dawned 
fully,  the  rush  of  emotion  left  him  almost 
stunned. 

"Mr.  Hendrix!"  he  exclaimed. 

"Of  course,  I  know  I  don't  look  as  though  I 
could  have  done  it,"  said  Jack,  with  a  sheepish 
grin;  "but  I  did." 

"You — you  painted  my  daughter's  picture?" 
cried  Chase,  in  gusty  anger. 

Jack  Hendrix  straightened  up  at  the  speak- 
er's tone. 

"Yes — and  I  am  very  glad  you  like  it,  Mr. 
Chase." 

Chase  turned  from  the  young  man  to  his 
daughter. 

"I  am  sorry,  Willa,"  he  said,  firmly;  "but 
204 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

we  cannot  accept  such  a  gift  from  Mr.  Hen- 
drix. ' ' 

"I  am  not  an  artist  in  this  case  for  the  money, 
Mr.  Chase,"  Jack  asserted. 

"I  know  that,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  the  father  read- 
ily conceded.  "The  picture  will  be  returned  to 
you. ' ' 

Willa's  voice  quivered;  her  cry  came  half  as 
a  sob. 

"Give  back  my  picture — give  back — !" 

"I'm  sorry,  dear,"  declared  her  father;  but 
he  gave  no  sign  of  relenting. 

"But  Dorothy's?"  flared  Willa. 

"Why,  that  is  different,  dear,"  said  Chase. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  father,"  cried 
Willa.  "They  look  alike,  in  style.  Hers  was 
painted  in  Lincoln.  There — see  the  initials — 
*  J.  H. '  in  the  corner.  .  .  .  Oh ! " 

She  flashed  an  accusing  look  at  Dorothy, 
while  her  father,  after  peering  closely  at  the 
artist's  signature,  turned  startled,  questioning 
eyes  on  his  wife. 


205 


CHAPTEE  XXI 

"SHE  SLAPPED  ME!" 

revelation  of  Jack  Hendrix  as  the 
-•-  painter  of  his  wife's  portrait  as  well  as  of 
that  of  his  daughter,  had  nearly  provoked  an 
open,  violent  expression  of  anger  from  the 
vigorous,  straight-dealing  John  Chase;  but 
Edith  Thomas  cleverly  averted  an  outbreak,  by 
remarking,  casually: 

''Oh,  then,  that's  the  picture  Jack  painted 
when  he  was  in  Lincoln,  three  years  ago." 

''Painted — Jack — "  stammered  Willa,  ques- 
tioningly. 

"My  portrait,  also,  was  painted  by  Mr.  Hen- 
drix, John,"  said  Dorothy,  with  slow  distinct- 
ness, "in  Lincoln,  three  years  ago." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Chase,  mollified  and  comprehend- 
ing. 

206 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"But  you'll  keep  her  picture?"  demanded 
Willa,  with  angry  insistence. 

"This  picture  will  be  returned  also,  as  your 
father  wishes,  Willa,"  Dorothy  exclaimed, 
sadly. 

"Dorothy-,  why  did  you?"  asked  Chase,  in 
tones  of  low  reproach. 

"Mrs.  Chase — "  began  Jack  Hendrix,  in  pro- 
test. 

Again,  it  was  Edith  Thomas  who  acted  tact- 
fully. 

"Now,"  she  laughed,  "I  know  it's  time  for 
me  to  go. ' '  Sympathetically,  she  turned  to  the 
artist.  "Won't  you  come  with  me,  Jack?" 

"Yes,"  he  said  promptly,  and  with  an  open 
expression  of  relief.  He  bowed  stiffly  to  Chase. 
"Mrs.  Chase— Willa." 

"Good-afternoon,"  said  Chase  and  Dorothy 
in  concert. 

Willa  had  flounced  to  the  lounge,  where  she 
cuddled,  her  hands  to  her  face,  her  shoulders 
shaken  with  a  burst  of  sobbing. 

"John!"  appealed  Dorothy,  indicating  Willa. 
208 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

But  the  father  was  in  no  mood  just  then  for 
the  accustomed  petting  and  humoring  of  his 
daughter. 

"Not  now,"  he  said,  with  compressed  lips. 
Then,  he  wheeled,  and  left  the  room  without  an- 
other word. 

Dorothy,  left  alone  with  Willa,  stood  doubt- 
fully for  a  few  seconds;  but  her  better  nature 
triumphed,  as  it  always  did  if  the  opportunity 
were  given  it.  She  walked  softly  over  to  the 
girl,  and  laid  a  kindly  hand  on  the  shaking 
shoulder. 

"Willa,"  she  whispered;  "Willa — dear!" 

The  girl  arose  swiftly  from  the  lounge;  her 
face  was  as  red  with  anger  as  with  weeping. 

"Don't  you  'dear'  me,"  she  cried,  furiously. 

"Willa!"  protested  Dorothy,  greatly  hurt 
by  her  step-daughter's  harsh  manner  of  re- 
buff. 

"I  hate  you — I  hate  you!"  the  girl  hissed  at 
her  young  step-mother. 

"You  don't  understand,  dear,"  said  Dorothy, 
softly. 

209 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  do  understand.  First,  you  came  in  be- 
tween me  and  father,  and  now  you  come  in  be- 
tween me  and — and  Jack.  You  didn't  want  me 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  Jack  Hendrix,  did 
youf  I  can  see  why — now!" 

"Stop!"  commanded  Dorothy,  her  patience 
dissolving  under  the  tirade. 

"I  won't  stop!"  retorted  Willa,  openly  de- 
fiant. "No  wonder  you  didn't  want  me  to  go  to 
Jack's  studio !  No  wonder  you  tried  to  prevent 
his  painting  my  picture!"  She  drew  her  slen- 
der figure  to  its  full  height.  "For  shame,"  she 
cried, '  *  to  treat  my  father  so ! " 

Dorothy  stared  for  an  instant,  at  a  loss  what 
to  say  or  do,  then  her  anger  broke  forth. 

"Willa,  I'll  box  your  ears!"  she  said. 

"How  dare  you  be  in  love  with  Jack  Hen- 
drix!" went  on  the  girl,  hysterically.  "You — 
my  father's  wife!" 

"Willa!" 

"You — you  aren't  fit — " 

What  else  Willa  would  have  said  was  stopped 
by  her  own  screams,  for  Dorothy,  in  a  flare  of 

210 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

utter  exasperation,  caught  the  girl  roughly  by 
the  shoulders,  and  proceeded  with  vim  and 
vigor  to  box  her  ears  roundly. 

Then,  they  drew  apart,  staring  at  each  other, 
blank  amazement  and  horror  on  the  faces  of 
both. 

Dorothy  was  the  first  to  recover. 

' '  Oh,  what  have  I  done ! ' '  she  said,  in  shocked 
tones.  *  *  Willa,  forgive  me ! ' ' 

But  Willa,  still  bereft  of  her  senses,  simply 
stood  staring,  and  this  attitude  on  her  part 
caused  Dorothy  to  be  overcome  with  shame  and 
anger  against  herself. 

"Oh,  how  degrading!"  she  murmured;  and, 
covering  her  face  with  her  hands,  she  unsteadily 
left  the  room. 

Willa  was  motionless,  a  rigid  figure  of  fright 
and  dismay. 

Suddenly,  she  rushed  to  the  telephone. 

4 '  Seven-sixty-nine,  Plaza ! ' '  she  called  quaver- 
ingly.  "Plaza,  seven-sixty-nine — speak  to  Mrs. 
Hendrix. ' ' 

And,  when  her  mother's  voice  answered  her, 
211 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa  allowed  all  control  to  go  out  of  her 
own. 

"Mother!"  she  shrieked.    "She  slapped  me! 
Dorothy — she  slapped  me!    Come — mother!" 


212 


CHAPTER  XXII 

STEATEGY 

JOHN  CHASE  had  heard  nothing  of  the  loud 
talking,  the  cries  that  ended  in  screams. 
This  was  due  to  the  heavy  curtains  and  the  long 
hallway  and  length  of  broad  stairs  that  inter- 
vened between  the  distressing  scene  and  his  own 
apartment.  Some  hours  afterward,  however, 
when  he  descended  to  the  library,  he  immedi- 
ately became  aware  of  the  violent  occurrence. 
He  had  heard  the  sounds  of  weeping  in  the 
upper  hallway.  He  had  investigated,  and  he 
had  found  out.  He  was  still  in  a  disturbed 
frame  of  mind  as  he  entered  the  general  room. 
He  was  agitated  to  the  extent  of  leaving  his 
eye-glasses  on  the  library  table  as  he  stared 
around.  Finally,  he  rang  the  bell  for  Maria. 
When  she  came  in,  he  asked  vaguely: 

213 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Has  Mrs.  Chase  had  dinner?" 

"She  said  she  didn't  care  for  anything.  She 
lias  a  headache,"  the  servant  answered. 

"Ah,"  said  John  Chase,  comprehensively. 
"Er— and  Miss  Willa?" 

"She  said  she  didn't  care  for  any  dinner 
either,  sir — she  has  a  headache. ' ' 

Chase  rubbed  a  dubitative  hand  across  his 
chin. 

"Where  is  Mrs.  Chase  now?"  he  asked. 

"In  her  room,  sir." 

"Ah— and  Miss  Willa?" 

"In  her  own  room,  sir." 

He  took  a  few  steps  in  one  direction  and  then 
a  few  steps  in  another. 

' l  Oh,  very  well, ' '  he  said,  finally. 

Maria  herself  was  sadly  in  need  of  direction. 
She  fussed  about,  touching  an  article  of  furni- 
ture here  and  another  there,  and,  after  awhile, 
inquired : 

"Shall  I  serve  dinner  for  you  now,  sir?" 

"I — I  don't  care  for  any  dinner,  Maria — 
thank  you." 

214 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

The  old  servant  was  not  without  her  genuine 
solicitude  at  this  state  of  affairs  in  the  house- 
hold, and,  also,  not  without  her  sense  of  privi- 
lege. 

"I — I — hope  you're  not  feeling  badly,  sir. 
There's  nothing  the  matter?" 

"Oh,  nothing — nothing  at  all,"  the  master 
was  quick  to  reply;  "just  a  slight  headache." 

He  was  unconscious  of  Maria's  sharp  glance 
of  inspection. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  assented,  with  an  irritating 
readiness ;  "  a  headache. ' ' 

"That  will  do,"  said  Chase,  sharply. 

"Yes,  sir." 

Maria,  realizing  that  the  tether's  end  of  pre- 
sumption had  been  reached,  departed.  Chase, 
finding  that  she  was  gone,  was  at  no  pains  to 
disguise  from  himself  his  own  uneasiness.  He 
paced  to  and  fro.  Next,  he  started  for  the  door 
that  led  into  the  hallway.  Then,  he  started 
for  the  door  of  the  conservatory  wing.  And, 
finally,  he  blindly  started  for  the  door  on  the 
butler's  pantry  side.  But  he  wound  up  at  the 

215 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

mantel,  one  elbow  on  the  shelf,  his  head  resting 
on  his  hand,  his  mind  offering  no  ready  solu- 
tion to  the  difficulty — as,  indeed,  may  not  the 
mind  of  a  man  who  has  for  adjustment  a  quar- 
rel between  women. 

After  a  little  interval,  Maria  reappeared,  to 
announce  Miss  Edith  Thomas  again. 

Chase  turned  from  the  mantel-shelf  with  alac- 
rity. 

"Miss  Edith!"  he  exclaimed.  "I'm  really 
so  glad  to  see  you!"  He  shook  her  hand  with 
enthusiastic  demonstration. 

She  laughed  at  this  evident  perplexity — 
laughed  quickly,  without  positively  expressing 
her  understanding  of  his  dilemma,  as  it  was, 
of  course,  no  part  of  hers  to  do  so. 

"I  just  ran  in  for  a  moment  to  see  Dor- 
othy," said  she,  ingenuously. 

Chase  drew  back.  He  had  no  ready  explan- 
ation for  the  state  of  affairs  he  knew  existed. 

"I'm — I'm  afraid,"  he  said,  "er — the  fact 
is,  Dorothy  is — well — she  isn't  feeling  very 
well." 

217 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

To  his  surprise,  Miss  Thomas  answered 
promptly : 

"I  know.  She  has  a  headache.  She  tele- 
phoned me." 

"Oh!"  said  Chase,  with  an  immensity  of  re- 
lief matching  also  the  immensity  of  conjecture 
that  arose  in  his  mind  at  this  statement. 

1  'Yes,  she's  in  her  room,"  said  Miss  Thomas, 
by  way  of  corroboration  of  the  telephone  mes- 
sage. "And  Willa?" 

Again,  John  Chase  was  at  a  loss.  After 
some  seconds  of  consideration,  in  which  he  half- 
realized  the  humor  of  his  reply,  he  said : 

"She  has  a  headache,  too." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  concerted  Miss  Thomas  read- 
ily. "She,  too,  telephoned  me." 

Chase  stopped  his  pacing  of  the  room.  He 
looked  at  Miss  Thomas  with  a  still  wondering 
glance. 

"Oh!"  he  said.  "And,  then,  what  did  you 
do?" 

Miss  Thomas  nodded  quickly  at  him.  Her 
smile  was  very  fine. 

218 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I  didn't,"  she  replied,  "let  my  right  hand 
know  what  my  left  hand  was  doing. ' ' 

"Oh!"  said  Chase  again,  blankly.  "Then, 
you  know  what  happened?"  He  turned  to 
scrutinize  her. 

Miss  Thomas  laughed. 

"Yes;  both  of  them  told  me."  She  preened 
herself  with  a  comical  little  expression  of  im- 
portance. "Both  of  them,"  said  she,  "want 
my  advice. ' ' 

"Both  of  them?"  demanded  Chase. 

The  visitor  nodded,  affirmatively. 

He  threw  out  his  hands. 

"Well,  then,  make  it  three — won't  you? 
Miss  Edith,  won't  you?  ...  I  need  ad- 
vice, worst  of  all."  He  made  the  admission  in 
his  big-boy  fashion,  which  women  found  so 
alluring  to  their  sympathy. 

Miss  Edith  Thomas  was  not  proof  against 
such  an  appeal. 

"It's  quite  simple,"  she  said,  warmly. 
"You  must  bring  them  together."  But,  hav- 
ing spoken  thus,  she  realized  that  she  had 

219 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

merely  talked  sympathetically,  not  in  the  least 
practically. 

Chase  looked  at  her  as  though  she  had  sug- 
gested his  going  to  the  moon,  and  dragging  it  in 
actual  touch  with  the  sun. 

"But  I  haven't  even  seen  either,"  he  said, 
helplessly.  "They  told  me  what  happened 
through  the  door.  Each  is  locked  in  her  room. ' ' 

"But  you  must  bring  them  together,"  Miss 
Thomas  insisted.  "Oh,  it's  simple — quite 
simple ! ' ' 

"Oh,  quite  simple!"  groaned  the  man. 

"Of  course!"  went  on  Miss  Thomas.  "Just 
talk  sense  to  them.  Nothing  in  the  world  gets 
two  women  together  so  quickly  as  talking  sense. 
Why,  don't  you  understand?"  she  asked, 
brightly.  "The  very  novelty  of  it  enthralls 
them." 

Chase  stared  at  the  speaker  in  miserable  be- 
wilderment. 

"Give  them  a  novelty,  eh!"  he  asked,  with- 
out enthusiasm. 

"Of  course.  Just  bring  them  to  this  room," 
220 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

she  said  quickly.  "And  put  one  down  here" — • 
she  pointed  to  a  big  chair — ' '  and  the  other  down 
there" — she  pointed  to  the  divan.  "And,  then, 
you  just  get  in  between  them,  and — and — and 
— just  give  it  to  'em!" 

"Well — yes,"  he  ventured,  inappreciatively. 
But,  in  a  moment,  he  added,  despairingly.  * '  Er 
— will  they  stay?" 

"Make  them  stay,"  commanded  Miss 
Thomas,  positively. 

"Oh — er — yes,  make  them  stay,"  he  agreed, 
fatuously. 

The  visitor  nodded,  encouragingly. 

"Now,  I'll  run  away  to  the  drawing-room,  and 
have  Maria  tell  each  of  them  in  turn  that  I'm 
waiting  for  her  in  the  library.  Then,  when 
they  come  down,  you  lay  down  the  law." 

Chase  was  still  wretchedly  helpless  in  his 
consideration  of  her  plan.  It  did  not  seem 
feasible  at  all  to  his  man's  mind.  Neverthe- 
less, he  assented,  and  spoke  with  an  assumption 
of  great  sternness : 

"Yes;  I'll  lay  down  the  law." 
221 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Eemember,"  Miss  Thomas  adjured  Mm 
from  the  doorway,  "be  firm!" 

He  put  out  an  anxiously  grasping  hand  to 
stay  her. 

"But,  Miss  Edith,"  he  asked,  in  frank  des- 
peration, "what  must  I  say?" 

She  shook  her  finger  at  him. 

"Oh,  you  know  what  to  say,"  she  answered. 
"I've  told  you,  already.  Eemember!" 

And  she  left  John  Chase  staring  now  at  the 
big  arm-chair,  where  one  was  to  sit,  and  then 
at  the  divan,  where  the  other  was  to  sit,  the 
while  he  laid  down  the  law  to  them. 


CHAPTER  XXin 

NO   EASY   TASK 

FOE  a  time,  the  husband  and  father  stood 
pondering  the  advice  that  had  been  given 
to  him  by  Edith  Thomas ;  and,  while  he  did  so, 
he  fell  to  rehearsing  the  scene,  as  he  would  enact 
it  when  he  had  brought  Dorothy  and  "Willa  into 
the  room. 

"My  dears, "  he  would  say,  "I  cannot  stand 
this  any  longer.  This  situation  is  utterly  pre- 
posterous. You  are  both  in  the  wrong,  and  I 
demand  that  you  make  concessions.  I  will  not 
further  put  up — " 

What  more  he  was  planning  to  tell  them  was 
cut  short  by  the  flying  entrance  of  one  of  the 
participants  in  the  unpleasantness,  Willa  her- 
self. 

"Father!"  she  cried  distressedly,  at  sight  of 
him. 

223 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

The  frown  and  the  firm  set  that  his  lips  had 
held  at  rehearsal  did  not  remain.  His  manner 
melted  very  quickly.  He  was  conciliatory,  even 
apologetic. 

"Yes,  dear,"  he  said  quickly.  As  he  ad- 
vanced to  meet  her,  she  ran  toward  him,  and  his 
arms  were  readily  outstretched  as  she  threw 
herself  into  them.  "Dear!"  he  repeated,  by 
way  of  stronger  affectionate  greeting. 

Willa,  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  sniffled  and 
sobbed  in  a  manner  distinctly  girlish. 

"She  slapped  me — she  slapped,  father!" 

"I  know,  Willa,"  he  began  tenderly,  "but — " 

She  straightened,  and  stared  at  him. 

"But — but!"  she  mocked  at  him.  "You 
don't  mean  to  say  that  you  approve!" 

« Who— what?  Me?"  he  asked.  "No— oh, 
no,  dear — well,  er,  that  is — " 

Willa  pushed  him  away  from  her,  and 
plunged  angrily  over  to  a  seat  on  the  divan. 

"I  might  have  known  you'd  side  with  her!" 
she  exclaimed. 

John  Chase  paced  the  room  in  troubled  fash- 
224 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ion.  Out  in  the  world  of  men,  he  knew  how  to 
fight  his  way  and  to  manage  his  affairs  in  a 
firm,  fine  fashion.  But,  notoriously,  such  men 
are  chary  and  half-fearful  in  their  dealings 
with  such  tender  things  as  women — things 
about  to  burst  into  tears  any  minute ;  into  those 
tears  that  make  a  man  like  Chase  invariably 
feel  as  if  he  had  acted  brutally,  whether  or  not 
he  has  done  so.  So,  now,  he  merely  looked  at 
Willa  dubiously,  and  said  gently : 

"She's — she's  your  mother,  you  know." 

Willa  leaped  from  the  lounge,  and  crossed  to 
a  near-by  chair,  into  which  she  flung  herself 
violently. 

"She's  not  my  mother!"  she  cried  explos- 
ively. 

"Yes,  yes,  dear,  to  be  sure!  But,  then,  she's 
very,  very  sorry,  I  know.  I  know  she  is, 
Willa." 

"Huh!"  said  his  young  daughter,  incredu- 
lously. 

"Indeed,  Dorothy  is,"  Chase  assured  her. 

Willa  leaned  forward,  looking  at  her  father 
225 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

speculatively.  She  was  far  from  feeling  com- 
fortable in  her  mind  over  her  own  actions  in 
the  quarrel.  She  had  said  unpardonable  things 
to  Dorothy. 

"Well,  if  she's  sorry,"  she  said  in  milder 
tones,  "why  doesn't  she  say  so,  then!" 

"Well — I — er — "  Chase  braced  himself. 
"She  will,"  he  declared,  finally. 

But  Willa  had  drawn  back  again. 

"Oh,  you  haven't  seen  her,  you  mean!" 

"But  she  will — she  will  tell  you  how  sorry 
she  is,"  he  repeated. 

His  daughter  did  not  seem  impressed.  In- 
stead, she  declared,  with  new  heat: 

"My  own  mother  wouldn't  have  slapped  me 
— wouldn't  have  dared  to  do  such  a  thing." 

Chase  smiled,  grimly. 

"Well,  you  see,"  he  observed,  "your  own 
mother  hardly  knows  you  well  enough." 

Willa  half-turned  her  back  on  her  father. 
When  she  looked  around  again,  it  was  to  say, 
accusingly : 

"I  thought  you  said  that  Edith  was  here?" 
226 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Here?"  Chase  assumed  great  surprise. 
"Oh,  no,  not  here.  But,  now,  you  just  wait 
here,  dear,  and  I'll  bring  Dorothy.'* 

Willa  had  arisen,  but  he  took  the  young  girl 
by  the  arms,  and  forced  her  back  in  a  chair. 
He  shook  his  finger  at  her,  half-playfully,  half 
in  earnest. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "you  wait — wait  till  I  fetch 
Dorothy." 

No  sooner  had  he  left  the  room  than  Willa 
began  to  take  up  in  her  own  mind  again  the 
quarrel  she  had  created  with  her  young  step- 
mother; and,  the  more  she  thought  of  it,  the 
more  she  realized  that  she  had  acted  outrage- 
ously, and  that,  if  Dorothy  had  overstepped  all 
bounds  in  administering  a  few  sound  slaps,  the 
cause  had  undeniably  been  monstrous.  The 
more  she  thought  of  the  affair  in  this  aspect 
of  self-reproach,  the  more  the  blushes  chased 
over  her  pretty  cheeks,  and  the  less  and  less  at 
ease  she  became  at  the  prospect  of  facing  Dor- 
othy. Finally,  she  decided  that  this  was  just 
what  she  couldn't  possibly  do.  She  arose  with 

227 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

sudden  decision  of  fear,  her  eyes  furtive,  and 
ran  out  of  the  room. 

Thus  it  was  that,  when  Chase  returned  with 
Dorothy,  who  was  herself  thoroughly  shame- 
faced, it  was  to  find  the  library  empty. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  he  asked, 
in  confusion.  "She's  gone.  I  told  her  to 
wait. ' ' 

"I  don't  blame  her  for  going,"  said  Dorothy, 
miserably.  "I'd — well,  I'd  like  to  go  myself." 

Chase  took  his  young  wife's  hand,  and  patted 
it. 

"Dorothy,"  he  said  almost  plaintively, 
"don't  you  see  that  we  cannot  go  on  in  this 
way?" 

"Yes,  John,  I  know,"  she  said,  in  full  con- 
trition. "And  I'm'  so  ashamed  of  myself! 
The  idea  of  my  losing  my  temper  that  way!" 
She  gave  an  exclamation  of  dismay.  Yet,  sud- 
denly, her  manner  changed  to  one  of  anger. 
"Oh,"  she  cried,  "but  she  was  provoking!" 

"Yes — yes,"  Chase  hastened  to  agree.  "I 
don't  see  how  you — but — then — " 

228 


THE  SECOND  "WIFE 

"You  mean  then  that — I  But  no,  of  course, 
you  condemn  me.  She  is  your  daughter,  and 
I'm  only  her  step-mother." 

Chase  passed  an  arm  around  his  wife 's  waist. 

"Won't  you — won't  you,  now,  tell  me?"  he 
pleaded.  "Won't  you  help  me?  Won't  you, 
Dorothy,  my  dear  little  wife  I  This  situation — 
well,  I  just  can't  stand  this.  It's  simply 
awful!" 

* '  I  know, ' '  assented  the  young  wife.  '  *  Bring 
her—" 

"If  you'll  just  wait — just  here  a  second," 
he  hurriedly  said;  "just  wait."  He  moved 
swiftly  out  of  the  library,  in  search  of  Willa. 

Dorothy  sat  for  several  seconds  fully  nerved 
to  the  task  of  confronting  Willa,  and  of  asking 
the  girl's  forgiveness  for  having  slapped  her. 
But,  when  some  time  had  passed,  a  resolution 
that  was  hard  to  hold  at  any  time  began  to 
weaken,  and  she  asked  irritably  and  aloud,  in  a 
gust  of  self-defense: 

"Why  doesn't  she  come?" 

Irritation  was  succeeded  by  a  thorough  dis- 
229 


couragement  with  her  task.  And,  then,  as  she 
heard  without  the  footfall  of  Chase,  and  along 
with  it  the  lighter  step  of  Willa,  and  realized 
that  they  were  moving  toward  the  room  wherein 
she  sat,  her  courage  deserted  her  completely. 

"Oh,  I  can't — I  just  can't!"  she  cried  finally. 
In  her  turn,  she  ran  out  of  the  room. 

A  second  later,  Chase  returned,  dragging 
iWilla  by  the  hand,  much  as  he  might  have 
done  years  ago  in  her  naughty  pinafore  days. 
He  made  a  grimace  of  despair,  when  he  saw  that 
now  Dorothy  was  missing. 

"Why,"  cried  "Willa,  with  mingled  relief  and 
anger,  "she  isn't  here — any  such  thing!" 

"Well,  she  was  here,"  said  her  father, 
stoutly.  "Now,  dear,  you  wait,"  he  began. 
But,  at  the  very  apparent  look  of  rebellious- 
ness in  Willa 's  eyes,  he  quickly  changed  his 
mind.  "No,"  he  said,  "come."  He  drew 
Willa  to  the  doorway,  looked  out,  and  called: 
' '  Dorothy — Dorothy,  dear ! ' ' 

"Papa,  just  let  me  go!"  stormed  Willa. 
She  jerked  her  hand  away,  and  started  for 

230 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

the  doorway  opposite.  But  the  father  caught 
her,  and  this  time  held  her  decisively  as  he 
dragged  her  back  to  the  other  doorway,  where 
again  he  called  loudly  for  his  wife. 

When,  at  last,  and  very  reluctantly,  Dorothy 
appeared,  it  was  to  have  her  hand  caught  by 
Chase ;  and,  now,  with  a  firm  grip  on  both  wife 
and  daughter,  he  brought  them  into  the  room. 
Once  he  had  them  well  inside,  he  released  his 
hold,  and  indicated  two  library  chairs,  which 
he  drew  close  together,  requesting  Willa  and 
Dorothy  to  seat  themselves.  They  made  as  if 
to  do  so,  but,  at  the  same  time,  drew  the  chairs 
farther  apart. 

"Now,"  said  John  Chase,  trying  to  carry  the 
matter  off  as  a  bit  of  humor,  rather  than  as  an 
affair  that  might  indeed  threaten  the  future 
happiness  of  them  all,  "let  us  come  to  an 
understanding."  He  was  greatly  dismayed, 
however,  as  he  paused  hopefully,  to  find  that, 
in  the  little  interim  of  his  saying  these  few 
words,  the  women  had  turned  in  such  manner 
that  their  backs  were  toward  each  other. 

232 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


W,  my  dears !"  he  urged  them.  This 
had  the  effect  at  any  rate  of  getting 
both  women  seated.  Having  accomplished  this 
much,  and  believing  that  the  stern  countenance 
he  had  assumed  was  proving  effective,  he  was 
unpleasantly  brought  to  a  realization  of  the 
difficulty  in  his  project  of  reconciliation  by  ob- 
serving that  the  two  were  no  longer  paying  any 
attention  to  him;  that  they  were  seated  each 
with  a  cold  shoulder  toward  the  other;  and 
that  each  wore  a  set,  unrelenting  expression 
of  countenance. 

He  became  thoroughly  exasperated  then,  and 
the  tone  of  voice  in  which  he  called,  "Willa!" 
fairly  frightened  that  tempestuous  young 
person.  It  appeared  that,  after  all,  her  father 
himself  had  a  temper. 

233 


"Well,  I'm  waiting,"  she  said,  controver- 
sially. "Why  did  she  slap  me?" 

"Dorothy — why  did  you  slap  her?"  Chase 
asked,  with  an  inflection  of  pleading  in  the 
words  by  which  he  asked  Dorothy  to  humor  the 
girl's  demand. 

"Willa  knows  very  well  why  I  slapped  her," 
replied  Dorothy,  coldly. 

"You  know,  Willa,  why  Dorothy  slapped 
you?"  said  Chase,  helpless  again. 

Willa  turned  fiercely  on  Dorothy. 

"Yes,  indeed,  and  you — " 

"We  won't  discuss  that  now,"  said  Dorothy, 
with  dignity. 

"No,  no,"  interjected  the  husband  and  father 
anxiously;  "don't  let's  discuss  that  now." 

"Oh,  I  understand,"  retorted  Willa.  Then, 
she  began  to  sniff — a  very  effective  method  of 
bringing  her  father  to  her  side,  as  she  well 
knew  by  long  practise.  "My  own  mother," 
she  moaned,  weeping,  "wouldn't  have  slapped 
me,  and  I  don't  see  why  a  step-mother  can." 

Dorothy,  meanwhile,  had  been  trying  to 
234 


nerve  herself  to  make  the  sacrifice  of  her  own 
feelings,  which,  she  had  decided,  was  demanded 
by  her  duty  to  John  Chase  and  her  duty  in  a 
way  to  Willa. 

''I'm  very — very  sorry,  Willa,  that  I  did 
it.  I'm  heartily  ashamed  of  myself.  I  don't 
know  what  I  can  do  more  than  to  tell  you  that  I 
am  sorry." 

This  was  so  much  more  in  expiation  than 
Willa  had  expected — more  indeed  by  far  than 
she  felt  she  had  any  right  to  expect — that  her 
attitude  of  recalcitrancy  absolutely  vanished. 
She  put  her  hands  up  to  her  eyes  again,  and 
began,  brokenly: 

"Well—  " 

Dorothy  had  arisen,  and  she  was  now  stand- 
ing in  front  of  the  girl. 

"Won't  you  be  friends  again,  Willa?"  she 
asked,  gently. 

To  this,  there  came  no  reply  whatever  save 
an  inarticulate  murmur  from  Willa.  A  twist 
of  wistful  humor  had  its  expression  on 
Dorothy's  lips.  "Come,  Willa,"  she  went  on, 

235 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"I'll  do  anything  I  can.    Do  you  want  to  slap 
me  back?" 

She  unhesitatingly  held  out  her  cheek. 

"Yes,  Willa,"  asked  Chase,  with  his  eyes 
twinkling  sympathetically  toward  those  of  his 
wife;  "do  you  want  to  slap  her  back?" 

"No,  indeed,"  came  spontaneously  from  the 
girl. 

On  this  scene,  there  rested  the  eyes  of  Miss 
Edith  Thomas,  come  to  the  doorway  to  observe 
the  success  of  the  strategy  she  had  proposed  to 
Chase.  Evidently,  she  deemed  the  desired  re- 
sult accomplished,  or,  at  least,  the  affair  to  have 
progressed  to  such  a  stage  that  its  full  accom- 
plishment could  be  assisted  by  herself. 

"Hello!"  she  cried.  "How  are  you,  girls? 
I  just  thought  I'd  drop  in  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  show  you  my  new  gown.  What  do  you 
think  of  it?"  She  took  a  few  turns  in  front  of 
them,  mincingly. 

"Lovely,  Edith,"  said  Dorothy. 

"I  don't  like  it,"  declared  Willa,  imperti- 
nently. 

236 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

In  Edith  was  an  ally  who,  Chase  felt,  was 
worth  having  in  an  almost  intolerable  situation. 

"Can't  you  stay  for  dinner?"  he  asked. 
"Do,  Miss  Edith.  I'm  starved.  Why  is 
dinner  so  late,  Dorothy!  I  have  a  business  ap- 
pointment immediately  after  dinner." 

Dorothy  smiled  at  him,  a  bit  tremulously. 

"I'm  afraid  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea  why 
dinner  is  late,"  she  confessed,  ruefully.  "But 
I'll  see,  John." 

"Well,  if  you  girls  will  excuse  me,"  he  said, 
"I  have  to  look  over  some  papers.  Willa, 
dear,  will  you  have  Maria  let  me  know  at  once 
when  my  man  comes?" 

"Who  is  it,  father!" 

"Haven't  an  idea,  Willa — some  man  from  the 
National  Power  Company." 

"Well,  if  you'll  excuse  me  also,"  said 
Dorothy,  "I'll  go  and  see  about  dinner." 

When  Chase  and  Ms  wife  had  left  the  room, 
Edith  turned  to  Willa,  and,  with  her  customary 
whimsical  smile  playing  on  her  face,  asked: 

"Well!" 

237 


"I  made  her  eat  humble  pie — a  great,  big, 
double  slice!"  declared  Willa,  triumphantly 
and  still  in  her  schoolgirlish  manner. 

"But,"  said  Miss  Thomas  gently,  "you  are 
going  to  forgive  her?" 

"Oh — I — I — may,"  said  the  young  woman, 
judicially.  "Yes,  I  think  I  shall,  Edith." 

"Good!"  declared  that  tactful  young  woman, 
with  enthusiasm. 

"But,"  pursued  Willa,  "she  must  keep  her 
place." 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  she'll  do  that,"  Edith  agreed, 
smiling. 

Willa  strolled  over  to  one  of  the  chairs,  and 
slowly  settled  down  into  it. 

"That's  the  worst  of  a  man  marrying  be- 
neath him,"  she  said.  "Mother  says  it  always 
results  in  vulgar  outbreaks." 

Miss  Edith  Thomas,  in  the  act  of  settling 
her  skirts,  as  she  sank  into  a  near-by  chair, 
looked  up  quickly,  but  Willa  did  not  happen  to 
catch  her  friend's  eye. 

"Yes,"  agreed  Miss  Thomas  tolerantly, 
238 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

'  *  everybody  at  the  time  agreed  that  your  father 
had  done  that.  But,  then,  you  ought  not  to 
blame  him.  Your  father  was  young,  and  they 
went  to  school  together." 

Now,  at  last,  Willa  looked  up  wonderingly  at 
Edith. 

"Went  to  school  together!  Young!  Father 
was  at  least  forty-five." 

"When  he  married  your  mother?  Bidic- 
ulous ! "  came  the  calm  retort. 

"Married  my  mother?"  gasped  Willa.  "I 
mean,  when  he  married  Dorothy." 

Edith  Thomas  drew  herself  quite  straight 
in  her  chair,  and  demanded,  with  a  tone  colder 
than  was  usual  with  her. 

"Dorothy?    Dorothy — beneath  him?" 

"Of  course,  not  now,"  said  Willa  with  con- 
descension; "not  now  that  she's  married  into 
the  family.  Mother  says,"  she  went  on,  in  an 
explanatory  fashion;  "well,  in  spite  of  all 
disagreements,  mother  recognizes  that  father 
has  inherited  social  position.  Mother  says 
that—" 

239 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa  was  quite  unaware  of  the  full  signs 
of  storm  in  Edith's  voice  as  the  older  woman 
made  venomous  comment: 

"Oh,  she  does,  does  she!  Well,  that's  nice 
of  your  divorced  mother." 

"Mother  says — "  went  on  Willa,  with  the 
same  loftiness  of  tone. 

But  Edith  Thomas  broke  in  brusquely : 

"Mother  says,  I  suppose,  that  Dorothy  is  be- 
neath her  and  her  husband — her  Hendrix  hus- 
band, I  mean.  Now,  let  me  tell  you  something, 
Willa  Chase.  I  went  to  college  with  Dorothy 
Elliott,  and  I  visited  her  in  her  home.  I  know 
all  about  her  and  her  people.  Dorothy  El- 
liott's father  is  one  of  the  big  men  of  his  State; 
and  his  reputation  rests  largely  on  keeping 
men  like  Mr.  Hendrix  from  doing  business  in 
that  State.  He  was  never  kicked  out  of  school 
for  buying  examination  papers;  and  he  never 
had  to  stay  out  of  a  certain  State  to  keep  from 
being  arrested;  and  her  mother  never  got  a  di- 
vorce, and  paid  for  it  by  giving  up  her  child! 
Dorothy  beneath  anybody!"  concluded  Miss 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Thomas,  with  flashing  eyes  of  a  very  genuine 
indignation. 

The  while,  Willa's  feeling  had  run  the  gamut 
from  lofty  disdain,  surprise  and  anger,  to  in- 
ternal shock  of  dismay  at  the  taunt  of  being 
sold  by  her  mother  to  her  father. 

"Oh,  then — you — you — " 

She  stopped,  really  not  knowing  what  to  say. 

Edith  went  on,  with  vigor  unabated  in  her 
championship  of  her  school  friend : 

"Dorothy  beneath  a  Hendrix!"  she  openly 
scoffed.  "Why,  if  it  wasn't  for  Dorothy,  you 
couldn't  have  Jack  Hendrix  dangling  after  you. 
He  was  crazy  about  her  in  Lincoln — three 
years  ago.  She  could  have  had  him  a  dozen 
times,  but  she  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do 
with  him,  when  her  people  found  out  who  and 
what  the  Hendrix  tribe  were.  Now,  what  do 
you  think  of  that  f ' '  And,  then,  with  deep  dis- 
gust, she  added  again:  "Dorothy  beneath  the 
Hendrix!  Well,  that's  the  silliest  thing  I  ever 
heard — the  most  preposterous — the — " 

But  Willa  had  thought  of  only  one  thing. 
241 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 


. . 


'Dorothy,  is — is — in  love  with  Jack?"  she 
asked,  blankly. 

"Could  anybody  be  in  love  with  Jack,  and 
get  over  it?"  asked  Edith,  contemptuously. 

Willa  jumped  to  her  feet. 

"I  thought  I  was  right,"  she  cried  feverishly. 
Her  manner  was  that  of  one  thoroughly  horri- 
fied. "I  might  have  known  mother  was  right 
about  her.  No  wonder  she  got  so  mad  when  I 
accused  her.  Oh,  it's  shameful  of  Jack  Hen- 
drix  and  her — using  me  as  their  dupe.  My 
father  shall  know,"  she  finished,  furiously. 

"Willa — Willa,  are  you  crazy?"  angrily  re- 
monstrated her  visitor. 

"No,  I'm  just  beginning  to  have  sense,"  de- 
clared Miss  Chase,  violently. 

"Gee  whizz!"  Edith  cried  anxiously.  "I 
didn't  mean  to  start  all  this." 

"Edith,  I  honor  you  for  what  you  have 
done,"  exclaimed  Willa,  with  tragical  in- 
tensity in  her  voice.  "When  one  dear  to  my 
father  is  conspiring  with  his  bitterest  enemy, 
it  is  his  daughter's  right  to  know." 

242 


"But — "  Miss  Edith  had  started  earnestly 
to  say. 

The  appearance  of  Maria  interrupted  the 
protest. 

"Mr.  Jack  Hendrix  to  see  you,  Miss  Willa," 
the  servant  announced. 

"To  see  me — the  dupe!"  stammered  Willa, 
angrily.  She  looked  swiftly  at  Maria.  *  *  Show 
Mr.  Hendrix  directly  into  the  library  here,  and 
then  tell  Mrs.  Chase,  also."  Then,  when 
Maria  was  gone,  she  glanced  knowingly  at 
Edith.  "I'll  force  them  into  the  open — that's 
what  I'll  do.  I  always  knew  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  about  that  Jack  Hendrix." 

Miss  Thomas  shook  her  head.  She  saw  that 
effort  to  turn  the  girl  from  this  vindictive  mood 
must  be  useless  for  the  present. 

"Well,  good-by;  but  think  over  carefully 
what  I've  told  you,"  she  urged  regretfully. 

Willa  kissed  her  visitor  most  affectionately. 

"Good-by,  dear,"  she  fairly  cooed.  "I 
know  who  is  my  friend,"  she  added  fervently. 


243 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   ACCUSATION 

AS  Willa  stood  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
Jack  Hendrix  and  Dorothy  with  anger  in 
her  eyes  and  a  determination  to  give  them  both 
the  most  uncomfortable  hour  in  their  lives,  her 
father  unexpectedly  arrived  on  the  scene. 
Willa  looked  inquiringly  at  him. 

"Where  the  deuce  are  my  glasses,  Willa? 
Have  you  seen  anything  of  them?  Every  time 
I  get  excited,  I  lose  my  glasses. ' ' 

"You  had  better  keep  your  glasses  on,"  said 
his  daughter,  with  deep  significance,  as  she  ob- 
served him  pick  them  up  from  the  table. 

"What?"  he  asked,  puzzled,  as  well  he  might 
be  by  this  cryptic  remark. 

"You  have  your  glasses — use  them,"  she 
said  solemnly,  after  the  manner  of  a  young 
prophetess. 

244 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"What's  wrong,  dear?"  he  asked,  more 
mystified  than  ever  by  the  girl's  somber  man- 
ner of  speaking.  He  perceived  now  that  his 
daughter  had  drawn  very  erect,  posing  in  stilted 
self-consciousness,  evidently  attitudinizing  as 
a  stern  moralist. 

"Father,"  she  said,  "it  is  my  duty  to  speak 
to  you  about  Dorothy. ' ' 

"My  child,"  he  said,  with  tender  reproof  in 
his  voice,  "do  not  use  that  tone  in  talking  of 
Dorothy.  She  is  your — your — " 

"My  step-mother,"  said  the  girl,  bitterly. 
"Don't  worry.  I  am  not  likely  to  forget 
it." 

"Oh,  don't  be  so  unreasonable,  Willa!"  said 
John  Chase,  impatiently.  "Dorothy  is  my 
wife;  you  are  my  daughter.  I  love  you  both. 
My  one  grief  is  that  you  don't  love  Dorothy. 
I'm  sure  that  Dorothy  loves  you." 

"She's  got  a  nice  way  of  showing  it," 
sneered  Willa ;  ' '  slapping  my  face. ' ' 

"Now — now,  Willa,  can't  you  adapt  your- 
self a  little  bit  to  Dorothy?" 

245 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

4 'You  mean,  turn  the  other  cheek?"  burst 
forth  the  girl,  indignantly. 

Her  father's  only  reply  was  an  exclamation 
of  exasperation. 

''No,  thank  you,"  added  "Willa;  " one's 
enough. ' ' 

"Willa,"  said  her  father,  firmly,  "you  must 
do  as  I  tell  you — that  is  all.  It  is  not  hard  to 
love  Dorothy." 

"No,  for  men  it  isn't,"  the  girl  retorted, 
viciously. 

"Willa,"  the  father  cried,  "you  forget  your- 
self! Eemember,  you  are  speaking  of  your 
father's  wife.  Dorothy  is  entitled  at  least  to 
your  respect ;  partly  to  your  obedience. ' ' 

Willa  laughed  hysterically,  then  exclaimed  in 
mockery : 

"Respect!    Obedience!" 

"Willa!" 

"Oh,  she  can  always  justify  herself  to  men," 
stormed  the  girl.  "The  great  Dorothy! 
Saint  Dorothy!  I  suppose,  now,  she  has  told 
you  how  it  was  I  allowed  Jack  Hendrix  to  paint 

246 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

my  picture.  She  did  not  tell  you  of  herself  and 
Jack." 

"Willa,  stop!" 

"I'll  be  their  dupe  no  longer,"  the  girl  said 
to  her  father,  her  voice  rising  in  the  unashamed 
rage  of  the  primitive  jealous  woman. 

' '  Dupe !    Are  you  absolutely  mad  1 ' ' 

' '  Have  I  ever  lied  to  you,  father  ?  No ;  that 's 
one  thing  I  can  not  do.  I'm  my  father's 
daughter  there!" 

The  man  had  moved  close  to  her  while  she 
spoke,  and  now  they  were  looking  each  other 
full  in  the  eyes.  Neither  observed  the  entrance 
of  Dorothy  into  the  room,  just  as  "Willa,  after 
drawing  a  full  breath,  began  to  speak  anew : 

"I  tell  you,  father,"  she  said,  "Jack  Hen- 
drix  is  in  love  with  her;  and  I  believe  she 
cares  for  him.  That's  why  he  comes  here; 
that's  why  they  are  downstairs  together 
now. ' ' 

"Willa!"  cried  Dorothy,  aghast  in  horrified 
wrath. 

"Willa,  stop!"  commanded  John  Chase. 
247 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"What  has  upset  you  in  this  way?  You  must 
not  speak  so  to  me!" 

But  Willa  was  too  thoroughly  aroused  for 
the  battle,  too  bitterly  resentful  of  the  humilia- 
tion which,  she  believed,  had  been  put  upon  her- 
self, to  be  cowed  in  the  least  by  the  severity  of 
her  father's  tone. 

"You  were  engaged  to  Jack  Hendrix  in  the 
West ! ' '  she  sneered  at  Dorothy. 

"No,"  Chase  exclaimed,  indignantly. 

"You  don't  dare  deny  it!"  Willa  cried  to 
her  father's  wife. 

"No — no — stop  this  questioning  of  Doro- 
thy!" the  father  bade  the  passionate  girl. 

"Everything  I  said  to  you  this  afternoon," 
went  on  Willa,  with  writhing  lips  as  she  glared 
at  her  step-mother,  "is  true,  and  more — and 
more!" 

"Willa — stop — stop,  I  say!"  thundered  her 
father. 

"I  won't  stop!"  the  girl  retorted.  "I've 
stood  all  I  can  stand.  This  isn't  home — this 
is  anything  but  home.  You  and  I  were  happy, 

248 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

father,  until  she  came.  But,  since  then,  I 
haven't  had  one  happy  day.  I  tell  you,  I  can't 
stand  it  any  longer.  You  must  choose,  father. 
Dorothy  goes,  or  I  go." 

"Willa,"  said  Chase,  "you  shall  go  im- 
mediately— to  your  room !  Do  you  understand 
me?  Immediately,  to  your  room." 

Under  this  command,  Willa  gave  visible 
signs  of  breaking. 

"I've  been  your  daughter  for  nineteen  years," 
she  sobbed.  "She's  been  your  wife  for  three 
months.  I'll  go  to  my  room,  and  stay  there 
till  you  tell  me  which  you  choose — your 
daughter  or  your  wife — your  wife, ' '  she  added, 
with  a  sudden  new  lighting  in  her  eyes  of 
anger  and  vindictiveness,  "who  is  in  love  with 
another  man!" 

"Willa !"  the  distracted  father  fairly  shouted, 
stepping  toward  her  violently. 

Before  his  fierce  aspect,  the  girl  flinched  at 
last,  whirled,  and  fled  from  the  room. 

Then,  at  last,  Chase  turned  slowly  to  face 
his  wife. 

249 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  VICTIMS 

TT7"ITH  his  mind  on  fire  because  of  his 
*  *  daughter's  accusations  against  his  wife 
— accusations  the  more  tantalizing  and  shock- 
ing in  that  the  girl  had  made  only  veiled  as- 
sertions as  to  the  probable  relations  of  Dorothy 
and  Jack  Hendrix — John  Chase  now  stood 
looking  at  Dorothy,  hardly  trusting  himself  to 
speak.  He  knew  that,  if  in  the  least  there 
should  come  from  her  lips  a  confirmation,  a 
confession  that  she  and  Jack  Hendrix  loved 
each  other,  his  own  life  would  be  made  wretched 
to  the  end  of  his  days.  He  knew  that,  from  the 
instant  when  he  should  come  to  know  such  a 
thing  positively,  he  would  be  an  old  man,  his 
iron-gray  hair  would  whiten,  his  shoulders 
would  become  bowed,  his  ambition,  his  energy, 

251 


his  hopes,  would  be  shattered  for  all  time.  He 
had  often  been  almost  incredulous  over  the  fact 
of  his  success  in  winning  Dorothy's  love.  He 
had  a  man's  lack  of  vanity  about  his  ability  to 
hold  the  admiration  and  love  of  a  young  and 
beautiful  woman.  He  had  not  disguised  the 
disparity  of  their  years  to  himself.  He  had 
often  thought  of  it  as  an  amazing  thing  that 
she  in  her  youth  and  freshness  should  so  un- 
equivocally have  given  him  her  love,  and  have 
given,  moreover,  her  life  to  his  keeping.  It  had 
come  to  him  as  a  beautiful  solace  for  the  disillu- 
sionment he  had  suffered  in  the  matter  of  his 
first  wife  and  the  consequent  loss  of  that  ambi- 
tious woman.  His  face  was  a  mask  of  tragic 
suffering,  therefore,  when,  after  Willa  had  fled, 
he  turned  and  asked  his  wife,  in  a  voice  so  tense 
that  it  was  little  more  than  a  whisper : 

"Dorothy — is  it  true — is  any  of  it  true — what 
Willa  has  said?" 

"What    true,    John?"    demanded    Dorothy, 
quietly,  unalarmed. 

' '  You  heard  her.    Explain ! ' ' 
252 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

This  time,  he  almost  shouted,  in  a  sudden 
burst  of  jealous  grief  that  was  beyond  control. 

Dorothy's  head  was  proudly  lifted,  but  her 
eyes  were  full  of  pain. 

"I'll  explain  nothing,"  she  said  to  him. 
"No,  I  won't  explain." 

"Dorothy,"  he  gasped,  stepping  back  from 
her.  "Then,  it's  true!"  A  tone  of  profound 
sadness  sounded  in  his  voice. 

"John,"  she  returned  indignantly,  "don't  be 
an  idiot. ' ' 

"Idiot?"  he  cried,  angrily. 

Dorothy  nodded  her  head,  signifying  that  it 
was  quite  hopeless  to  make  him  understand. 

"And  yet,"  she  said,  "even  you  should  be 
able  to  see  that  that  foolish  little  girl  of  yours 
is  merely  jealous.  She's  in  love  with  Jack 
Hendrix;  and  she's  jealous  because  she  has 
found  out  that  once  Jack  painted  my  picture. 
Why,  Jack—" 

"Oh,  you  call  him  Jack,  do  you?"  Chase  in- 
terrupted with  a  savage  inflection. 

Completely  out  of  patience  with  what  she 
253 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

could  only  regard  as  his  unreasonableness,  Dor- 
othy retorted: 

"I  called  him  'Jack,  dear,'  when  I  was  en- 
gaged to  him. ' ' 

At  the  shocked  expression  that  came  to 
Chase's  countenance,  she  added: 

"Sometimes,  'Jack,  dearest'!" 

Made  wildly  jealous  by  this  revelation,  Chase 
walked  up  to  his  wife,  with  blazing  eyes. 

"Dorothy,  how  far  has  this  affair  gone 
between  you  and  young  Hendrix?"  he  de- 
manded. 

"How  dare  you  ask  that  question?"  she  re- 
torted, standing  aloof  from  him.  ' '  Eemember, 
I'm  your  wife.  But  you — when  you  talk  like 
that — become  not  my  husband,  but  a  middle- 
aged,  rather  unprepossessing,  impertinent 
man." 

"Dorothy,  do  you  know  what  you  are  say- 
ing?" he  asked  breathlessly,  in  his  great  as- 
tonishment. 

"Yes — and  I  will  say  more,  if  you  keep  on," 
she  answered,  shortly. 

254 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

""Why  didn't  you  tell  me  of  this  in  Lincoln?" 
he  asked,  with  angry  insistence. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  had  been  di- 
vorced?" she  rejoined.  Thereby,  she  left  him 
helplessly  floundering  for  a  reply.  He  half- 
started  to  leave  the  room,  but  the  burning  of 
the  wound  in  his  breast  would  not  permit  him 
to  withdraw  without  further  word  from  her. 
He  could  not  go  unless  he  had  absolute  con- 
firmation that  the  best  dream  of  life  was  not 
to  have  a  rude,  a  hideous  awakening. 

Dorothy,  however,  had  no  intention  of  allow- 
ing him  to  depart  in  such  manner,  or  in  such  a 
frame  of  mind. 

'  *  Oh,  you  must  know  all  about  me  before  mar- 
riage, but  I  must  ask  nothing  about  you,"  she 
continued,  hotly.  "There's  the  man  of  it.  I 
was  twenty-five  when  you  married  me.  Do 
you  realize  that?  Good  gracious,  do  you  sup- 
pose I  had  never  imagined  myself  in  love ;  had 
never  been  proposed  to?  I  assure  you,  I  was 
not  so  unattractive.  What  did  you  see  in  me  ? ' ' 
she  asked  him.  But,  when  he  would  have  re- 

255 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

plied,  she  swept  her  hand  for  silence.  "My 
past!"  she  suddenly  exclaimed,  and  laughed. 
"Poor,  red-headed  Potts!  And  ugly  Johnson 
and  fascinating  young  Hendrix!  There  you 
are.  Ah,  yes,  I  did  imagine  myself  in  love  with 
Jack  Hendrix  for  a  little  while;  but  I  didn't 
marry  him.  I  outgrew  him  rapidly.  Then,  I 
married  you.  I  did  go  to  Jack's  studio  with 
Edith,  and  he  finished  up  the  picture  that  he 
started  in  Lincoln.  I  did  it  because  I  wanted 
to  give  the  picture  to  you.  Don't  you  see? 
It's  you — you — you!" 

Chase's  breath  began  to  come  freely  once 
more,  by  force  of  the  relief  he  was  experi- 
encing. Nevertheless,  he  said: 

"Dorothy — but  you  and  Willa." 

"Don't  blame  Willa,  John,"  she  said.  "And 
don't  blame  me.  We  are  the  victims  of  a  con- 
dition, that's  all — your  divorce.  Of  course, 
Willa  can't  forget  her  mother.  No  girl  worth 
anything  could.  It's  too  deep  in  her.  To 
Willa,  I  am  the  intruder;  I  always  shall  be. 
Willa  and  I  are  the  sufferers ;  Tve  are  the  in- 

256 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

nocent  victims  of  your  divorce.  In  every 
divorce,  John,"  she  ended  with  conviction,  ''it's 
the  innocent  who  suffer."  She  paused,  gazing 
steadily  at  him.  Then,  a  winsome  smile 
played  on  her  lips.  "But,  at  that,  John,"  she 
said,  "I'm  glad  you  got  the  divorce." 

He  grasped  her  hands. 

"Dorothy!"  he  groaned,  repentantly. 
"What's  to  be  done?" 

"Let  Willa  marry  Jack  Hendrix,"  the  wife 
said,  flatly. 

Again,  Chase  started  back  from  her,  exclaim- 
ing: 

"Dorothy!" 

"You  surely  can't  object  to  his  past,"  she 
said,  with  mock  dignity  and  then  a  smile.  "Ee- 
member,  it  is  your  present." 

"Dorothy — no — no!  I  cannot  let  Willa 
marry  Jack  Hendrix." 

"Then,"  she  replied,  "what  Willa  said,  I 
say.  It's  your  time  to  choose — your  wife  or 
your  daughter.  I'm  going  to  my  room,  John. 
Let  me  know  when  you  decide. ' ' 

257 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

He  would  have  detained  her,  but  she  swept 
on  to  the  door,  unyielding.  There,  however, 
she  halted  with  an  expression  of  astonishment, 
for  on  the  threshold  stood  Jack  Hendrix  him- 
self. 


258 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

SPATS 

HENDEIX  bowed  with  embarrassment,  first 
to  Dorothy,  and  then  to  Chase. 

"I  thought  you'd  forgotten  me,  Mrs.  Chase; 
so  I  took  the  liberty  of  coming  up  from  the 
drawing-room  to  say,  'Good-by.'  My  train 
leaves  in  half  an  hour." 

"Why,  I'm  sorry,"  she  said,  hastily.  She 
turned  to  her  husband.  '  *  Mr.  Hendrix  is  going 
on  a  long  journey,  John,  and  has  called  to  say, 
^good-by.'  :  She  summoned  Maria,  who  was 
passing.  "Tell  Miss  Willa  that  Mr.  Hendrix 
has  called  to  say,  'Good-by,'  "  she  directed  the 
servant. 

"If  Mr.  Hendrix  is  going  on  a  long  journey," 
said  Chase  tartly,  "it  would  not  do  to  detain 
him.  Good-night,  sir." 

260 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Good-night,"  said  the  young  artist,  geni- 
ally. 

Breathlessly,  Willa  rushed  into  the  room. 

"You — you  are  not  going  away  for  good!" 
she  asked,  with  a  catch  in  her  voice  which  she 
could  not  prevent. 

The  young  man  nodded  dolefully. 

"A  long  trip — I — I  decided  quite  suddenly." 

"Good-night,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  said  Dorothy, 
extending  her  hand.  "I  hope  you  will  have  a 
successful  journey.  ...  I  am  tired — if  you 
will  excuse  me." 

"Good-night,  Mrs.  Chase,"  he  said,  "I  hope 
I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  on  my 
return. ' ' 

"I  fear  we  shall  not  be  at  home,  Mr.  Hendrix, 
on  your  return,"  she  answered,  coldly. 

He  affected  not  to  have  understood  her. 

"Oh,  I'll  find  you  no  matter  where  you  are," 
he  said,  and  laughed  hollowly. 

"Good-by,"  she  repeated,  and  left  the  room. 

Instantly,  when  she  had  done  so,  the  watchful 
father  said  to  Willa : 

261 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"You  are  tired,  Willa.  I'll  see  Mr.  Hendrix 
out." 

"I  wish,  to  speak  to  Mr.  Hendrix  about — 
about  his  trip."  Chase  frowned.  "Please," 
pleaded  Willa.  That  girlish  prayer,  of  course, 
decided  him  to  make  the  concession.  After  all, 
young  Hendrix  was  going  away.  He  need  not 
be  unnecessarily  harsh  in  the  matter.  So,  he 
bowed,  and  said: 

"Very  well." 

"Good-night,  sir,"  said  Jack,  smilingly. 

Chase  bowed  stiffly,  and  left  the  room. 

The  moment  he  had  gone,  Willa 's  manner  of 
breathless  interest  and  anxiety  toward  Jack 
disappeared.  Instead,  her  attitude  became  now 
one  of  dignity  and  coldness. 

"Mr.  Hendrix!"  she  said,  severely. 

His  brows  lifted  in  good-natured  inquiry. 

"So,  I  am  to  be  spanked,"  he  ventured. 
Then,  he  sighed.  "It  was  serious,  after  all — 
our  little  quarrel,  eh?  Too  bad!  I  thought 
it  might  only  be  a  bad  dinner." 

"No  doubt,  it  all  seems  a  joke  to  you,"  she 
262 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

said,   bitterly.    "And  it  is  a  joke — a  cruel, 
heartless  joke!" 

"Believe  me,"  lie  returned  playfully,  "I 
never  thought  of  that.  ...  A  bad  dinner 
a  joke!  Why,  it's  a  tragedy." 

She  made  a  gesture  of  disgust. 

"Oh,"  she  said,  "you  are  always  thinking  of 
the  material  things.  Faith  and  honor  and  plain 
honesty  are  the  jokes  with  you." 

At  this,  Jack  became  serious  in  turn. 

"You  have  no  right  to  say  that,  Miss  Chase," 
he  declared. 

The  girl  made  a  picture  of  supreme  scorn, 
drawn  to  her  full  height,  as  she  faced  him. 

"I'd  like  to  know  who  has  a  better  right!" 
she  asked. 

He  stood  back,  surveying  her. 

"Wouldn't  I  love  to  paint  you  like  that!"  he 
cried,  admiringly.  "Couldn't  you  hold  the 
pose  a  minute1?"  He  fumbled  in  his  pocket, 
produced  a  pencil  and  an  envelope,  and  began 
sketching  rapidly,  his  eyes  full  of  admiration, 
his  lips  wearing  a  tantalizing  smile. 

263 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Now,  then,"  lie  continued,  "chin  just  a  little 
higher,  please." 

It  was  this  phase  of  boyish  gaiety  about  his 
character  that  "Willa,  in  common  with  other 
women,  had  found  immensely  attractive.  But 
she  saw  nothing  charming  in  it  now. 

"I'm  not  trifling,"  she  said,  witheringly. 

"No,"  he  said  with  a  semblance  of  irritation, 
"you  are  spoiling  a  good  picture." 

"Mr.  Hendrix,"  insisted  Willa,  now  almost 
fiercely,  "I  asked  you  a  question." 

1 '  Oh,  well,  if  you  are  going  to  be  so  persistent 
— there  are  several  I  want  to  ask,  myself." 

"Oh!"  cried  Willa,  shocked.  "And,  first 
among  them,  I  suppose,  is  my  father's  wife." 

"Mrs.  Chase?"  he  cried. 

"Oh,"  she  said  to  him  sternly,  "I  knew  you 
would  defend  her." 

"No,  I'll  not  defend  her,"  said  young  Hen- 
drix. "For  me  to  presume  that  Mrs.  Chase 
could  need  defense  would  be  an  insult." 

"You  were  in  love  with  her,"  said  Willa  with 
an  unrestrained  show  of  feeling. 

265 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Young  Hendrix  pleaded  promptly  and  cheer- 
fully to  the  accusation. 

"Yes,"  said  he. 

"I  knew  it,"  cried  Willa,  dramatically. 

"I  always  intended  to  tell  you,"  he  remarked, 
with  composure. 

"Oh,  if  you  had  any  shame — "  she  began. 

"Shame?"  he  questioned,  abruptly.  "Why, 
to  have  been  in  love  with  a  woman  like  Mrs. 
Chase  could  not  help  benefiting  any  man." 

"You  speak  so  of  my  father's  wife  to  me?" 
stormed  Willa. 

"I'd  speak  so  to  your  father,"  answered 
young  Hendrix,  smilingly.  "It  was  three  years 
ago.  I'd  had  a  row  with  dad,  and  gone  West. 
Met  her — I  was  a  fool — a  wild  kid.  I  lied  to 
her.  She  couldn't  stand  for  me.  I  wasn't 
man  enough  to  realize  how  fine  she  was — " 

"And,  since  then,"  asked  Willa,  with  fresh 
scorn,  "you've  realized?" 

"I  have,"  said  Jack  with  great  self-satisfac- 
tion, "grown  a  good  deal  since  then." 

This  statement  to  the  jealous  girl  before  him 
266 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

was  tantamount  to  a  confession  of  everything 
that  she  had  feared  and  suspected;  and  her 
jealousy,  with  the  despair  that  then  came  upon 
her,  moved  her  to  a  full  outburst  of  rage. 

"Yes,"  she  cried  at  him, " you've  grown  more 
clever  since  then,  but  not  more  honest.  You 
lied  to  Dorothy  when  she  was  in  the  West; 
you've  lied  to  me — to  my  father,  and  to  me, 
ever  since  she  came  here.  I  said  faith  and 
honor  and  honesty  were  jokes  with  you,  and 
you've  confessed  that,  when  I  said  so,  I  told  the 
truth."  She  gave  way  to  a  gust  of  angry 
laughter.  "What  a  joke — duping  an  innocent 
girl  and  fooling  an  honest  man  that  you  might 
make  love  to  his  wife!  What  a  joke!"  She 
stood  now  trembling,  her  hands  clenched,  her 
eyes  blazing. 

Hendrix,  who  had  gone  red  and  white  with 
anger  under  her  outburst  at  first,  had  after- 
ward stood  more  calmly,  studying  her.  Now, 
at  last,  he  smiled  whimsically,  and  then  came 
toward  her.  He  possessed  himself  of  both  her 
hands,  and  spoke  tenderly,  even  playfully,  as 

267 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

one  who  would  sooth  a  pretty  child.  Yet, 
despite  this,  he  spoke  with  astounding  serious- 
ness, for  what  he  said  to  Willa  was: 

"We  won't  have  to  have  a  church  wedding, 
will  we  ?    I  hate  them ! ' ' 


268 


CHAPTER  XXVIH 

MRS.   HENDRIX   RETURNS 

A  LTHOUGH  Jack  did  not  quite  expect  im- 
-*^-  mediate  surrender  on  Willa's  part,  yet  in 
the  sophistication  that  had  come  to  him  through 
many  flirtations,  he  was  not  even  nonplused 
when  she  angrily  jerked  her  hands  away,  and 
cried  furiously: 

"How  dare  you!" 

He  laughed  gaily,  carelessly. 

"A  man  in  love,"  he  said,  "will  dare  a  good 
deal." 

"I'll  not  be  your  dupe!"  she  cried.  Her 
voice  narrowly  escaped  betraying  the  sob  in  her 
throat. 

"I  don't  want  you  to  be  my  dupe,"  he  said. 
And,  then,  most  tenderly,  he  added:  "I  want 
you,  Willa,  to  be  my  wife." 

"You  say  that  now,"  she  answered.  "And, 
269 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

fifteen  minutes  ago,  you  were  upstairs,  talking 
to  Dorothy." 

He  laughed,  outright. 

''And  what  she  told  me  was  that  I  could 
never  come  here  to  see  either  of  you  again." 

"She  dared  to  interfere  with  my  affairs!" 
cried  Willa. 

"Your  father— " 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed,  impatiently. 

"It  was  then,"  said  Jack,  "that  I  decided  on 
my  trip.  And,  now,  I'll  take  you  with  me." 

"But,  if  I — "  she  said,  drawing  back. 

He  followed  her,  again  caught  her  hands  in 
masterful  fashion,  and  drew  her  to  him. 

"You'll  come,"  he  said,  positively. 

And  the  wilful  Willa,  the  spoiled  and  sturdy 
spitfire,  yet  the  fair  and  fond  Willa,  shyly  mur- 
mured : 

"Yes." 

Scarcely  had  they  arrived  at  this  delightful 
understanding,  scarcely  had  Jack  begun  to  draw 
in  glamourous  language  an  anticipatory  pic- 
ture of  their  honeymoon  trip  into  strange  and 

270 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

charming  lands,  a  repetition  of  his  rovings  in 
the  art-student  days,  when  Maria  came,  with  the 
announcement  of  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Hendrix. 

Willa  remembered,  with  keen  regret  then,  of 
that  flurried  rush  to  the  telephone;  of  the  call 
for  help  which  she  had  sounded,  when  she  cried: 
"She  slapped  me,  mother!  Dorothy  slapped 
me!" 

Now,  the  girl  could  only  stare  blankly,  until 
Maria  reminded  her. 

"What  shall  I  say,  Miss  Willa?" 

"Tell  her,"  said  Jack  Hendrix  cheerfully, 
"to  go  home." 

"Maria!"  cried  Willa.  "No — no,  you  can't 
say  that !  I'm  afraid  I'll  have  to  see  her,  Jack. 
I  telephoned  to  her  to  come.  Show  her  up  here, 
Maria." 

"Well,  I'm  going,"  announced  Hendrix  hur- 
riedly, arising  and  making  for  the  door. 

"Jack,  father  is  out  that  way,"  warned 
Willa;  and,  the  next  instant,  escape  was  shut 
off,  for  Mrs.  Hendrix  entered,  with  a  swish  of 
skirts,  and  a  cry  of: 

271 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

' '  Willa— Willa,  my  child ! ' ' 

"Mother!"  came  the  answer,  and  the  two 
kissed. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  was  bustling  with  zeal  for  the 
protection  of  her  unfortunate  and  harried  off- 
spring. 

' '  Has  anything  occurred  since  you  telephoned 
me?"  she  asked,  hurriedly. 

' '  I  have  put  her  in  her  place, ' '  replied  Willa. 

"Just  like  that!"  laughed  Jack. 

"Well,  it's  your  father's  fault,"  Mrs.  Hen- 
drix declared.  "Why,"  she  said  indignantly, 
addressing  Jack,  "the  idea  of  his  bringing  a 
woman  like  that  to  rule  over  my  child." 

"What's  the  matter  with  her?"  inquired 
young  Hendrix,  suavely. 

' '  Jack ! ' '  remonstrated  Willa. 

"An  uncouth,  uneducated  creature  from  the 
prairies,"  the  mother  declared,  superciliously. 

"Now,  now,  don't,"  said  Jack,  gently.  "Re- 
member, please,  that  Mrs.  Chase  and  Willa  have 
to  live  in  the  same  house  together." 

"Willa  is  going  to  leave  this  house," 
272 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

announced   Mrs.   Hendrix,   with   majestic   de- 
fiance. 

"Oh,  mother,  do  you  mean  that — really, 
mother ! ' ' 

But  Maria  again  arrived  at  the  door  just  * 
then. 

"Mr.  Hendrix,"  she  announced,  impassively. 
The  servant  had  given  over  being  surprised. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  was  not  the  least  astounded  of 
those  who  heard  the  name  of  her  husband  from 
the  lips  of  Maria.  Tom  Hendrix  in  John 
Chase's  house!  This  was  as  an  exclamation 
that  rang  in  her  wondering  mind  like  the  sound 
of  a  thunderous  bell. 


273 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

SCHEMES   AHEAD 

TV/FES.  HENDRIX  had  no  sooner  made  her 
-LT-L  proinise  that  the  daughter  was  going  to 
leave  the  house  of  the  father,  had  no  sooner  re- 
ceived her  daughter  in  her  arms  to  seal  her 
expression  of  this  determination  with  a  kiss, 
than  she  and  Willa  and  young  Jack  Hendrix 
were  all  alike  brought  to  wide-eyed,  rigid  atten- 
tion by  Maria's  calm  announcement,  which  was 
instantly  followed  by  a  voice  resounding  in  the 
hallway  outside  the  library  door.  It  was  the 
voice  of  Tom  Hendrix.  He  was  addressing 
the  maid,  in  his  loud-voiced,  peremptory  man- 
ner. 

"Just  say  to  John  Chase  that  his  old  friend, 
Tom  Hendrix,  is  here.  And  hurry  up  about 
it." 

Mrs.  Hendrix  gasped  to  Jack: 

"Your  father!" 

274 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Did  he  come  with  you?"  demanded  Jack. 
"Gracious,  no!"  came  the  half -indignant  re- 

piy. 

"I  say,  tell  him,"  the  bluff  tones  of  Hendrix 
were  heard  commanding  outside,  "I'll  wait  in 
here."  At  these  words,  he  appeared  in  the  li- 
brary doorway,  where  he  halted  to  stare  in  sur- 
prise at  the  women  and  at  Jack. 

' '  Quite  a  family  party ! ' '  said  the  undismayed 
son,  smiling  broadly. 

1 1  You  here  ? ' '  growled  Hendrix  to  his  wife. 
And,  then,  to  his  son,  he  added,  morosely: 
1 1  What  are  you  doing  here  1 ' ' 

Willa  involuntarily  started  to  turn  away,  and 
Jack's  eyes  swiftly  followed  her  movement. 
The  pantomine  was  not  lost  on  Hendrix.  He 
grunted  significantly. 

Jack  could  not  repress  a  smile.  But  his  face 
now  assumed  an  altogether  doleful  expression, 
as  he  walked  slowly  up  to  his  father,  and,  tak- 
ing the  magnate's  hand,  shook  it  mournfully. 

"Welcome,  dad,"  he  said.  "I  know  every- 
body will  be  glad  to  see  you. ' ' 

275 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Willa  felt  the  necessity  of  doing  a  hostess's 
duty.  She  was  much  flustered,  however,  as  she 
came  forward,  and  shook  hands  with  Hendrix, 
senior. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  she  assented,  "we're  so 
glad  to  see  you!" 

"H'm — I  don't  doubt  it,"  he  said,  but  he 
said  it  very  doubtfully.  "Please,  tell  your 
father  that  I  am  here. ' ' 

"And  tell  Mrs.  Chase,"  put  in  Willa 's 
mother. 

"Yes,"  said  Willa,  "I'll  tell  him— and  her." 

When  Willa  was  gone,  Jack  walked  up  to  his 
father  smilingly,  and  said: 

"I  suppose,  we  all  come  by  invitation!" 

"I  have  an  appointment  with  John  Chase — 
on  business  for  the  Consolidated,"  the  father 
answered  crisply. 

Young  Jack  took  his  father's  arm,  affection- 
ately. 

"Say,  dad,"  he  pleaded,  "if  that's  what  you 
came  for — play  it  on  the  level.  Won't  you — 
er — for  a  change  ? ' ' 

276 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Hendrix  drew  himself  away,  sharply. 

"Are  you  running  my  business,  or  am  I?" 
he  demanded. 

"I  could  do  it,"  essayed  Jack. 

Tom  Hendrix  looked  at  his  son  out  of  nar- 
rowed eyes. 

"Lots  of  fellows  thought  that,"  he  retorted. 
"Some  of  them  are  dead — some  are  working 
for  me  at  ten  dollars  per  week. ' ' 

' '  But  I  could — remember — on  the  level,  dad. ' ' 

Young  Hendrix  grinned  good-naturedly  at  his 
parent,  and  then,  bethinking  himself  of  being 
able  to  meet  Willa  in  the  hallway  when  she 
should  have  delivered  the  message  to  her  father, 
he  sauntered  out  of  the  room. 

The  father  regarded  his  son's  departure  in 
some  amazement. 

"Fine  boy,  that!"  he  finally  observed,  sar- 
castically. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  made  no  comment.  She  had 
seated  herself  in  an  old-fashioned,  straight- 
backed  rocker,  where  she  sat  evidently  ill  at 
ease. 

278 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Do  you  remember,"  she  said  with  a  sniff, 
"John  Chase's  mother  used  to  sit  in  this  chair? 
I  always  hated  it ! ' ' 

"I  suppose  you  just  dropped  in  to  abuse  John 
Chase's  furniture?"  laughed  her  husband. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  arose.  She  approached  her 
husband,  placing  her  hand  on  his  arm. 

"I  came  to  see  Willa,"  she  explained.  She 
thought  a  second,  her  handsome  head  bowed, 
and  then  looked  up  at  Hendrix.  "She  isn't 
happy  here — "Willa  isn't  happy  here!  You 
must  get  her  for  me." 

"You  mean,  buy  her?"  the  financier  asked,  in 
most  matter-of-fact  tones. 

' '  But,  really, ' '  said  the  woman,  * '  I  want  her. '  ' 

Hendrix  threw  out  his  hands. 

"Then,  take  her,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "and 
I'll  fight  the  matter  out  through  the  courts. 
That'll  take  two  years.  She'll  be  of  age  by  that 
time,  and  there  you  are,  my  dear." 

Mrs.  Hendrix,  however,  shook  her  head,  de- 
cisively. 

"Another  scandal,"  she  commented,  "would 
279 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ruin  her  socially.  For  that  matter,  it  would 
ruin  us  all." 

Hendrix  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Don't  see  what  difference  one  scandal  more 
or  less  makes,"  he  said.  "There  will  be  just  as 
much  money." 

"That's  all  you  think  of,"  said  his  handsome 
wife,  coldly. 

"You  haven't  stopped  thinking  of  the  same 
thing,  have  you?"  demanded  he,  in  genuine 
astonishment. 

She  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  sought  another 
chair.  There,  after  a  moment's  thought,  her 
•elbow  on  the  arm,  her  chin  resting  in  her  hand, 
she  said  with  determination : 

"Tom  Hendrix,  I'm  not  going  to  leave  my 
child  under  that  step-mother's  influence  any 
longer.  She's  making  Willa's  life  miserable. 
Why,  she  boxed  her  ears  to-night." 

The  man  laughed  outright  at  this  intimate 
revelation. 

"She  did!"  he  said.  "Good!  Remarkable 
young  woman!  The  more  I  hear  of  her,  the 

280 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

better  I  like  her."  He  glanced  at  his  wife  re- 
flectively for  some  little  time.  ''Chase  hasn't 
any  business  judgment,"  he  added,  "but  no- 
body can  deny  he  has  good  taste  in  women. ' ' 

"Well,  if  you  won't  help,"  began  Mrs.  Hen- 
drix  irritably,  "perhaps  Jack  may — " 

Hendrix  was  aroused. 

"See  here,"  he  called  to  his  wife,  "you  are 
not  going  to  try  to  fix  up  any  scheme  to  get  that 
girl  through  Jack.  Are  you  ? ' ' 

"If  I  were?"  she  asked  quickly,  in  return. 

"I  won't  have  it,"  Hendrix  declared,  roughly. 

"Willa  is  my  daughter,"  the  woman  said, 
stoutly. 

"Jack  is  my  son,"  the  husband  replied,  as 
sharply;  "and  I'm  not  going  to  let  him  be 
thrown  away." 

The  wife  arose,  and  stared  at  him  from  head 
to  feet. 

"Thrown  away — thrown  away!"  she  cried, 
indignantly.  "Well — you've  quite  taken  my 
breath  away.  She  would  not  consider  Jack  for 
an  instant." 

281 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

" She'd  better  not,"  said  Hendrix,  grimly. 

"Oh,  indeed!"  exclaimed  his  wife,  taking  up 
the  cudgels  in  earnest.  "You  consider  that 
would  be  a  sacrifice?" 

The  man  turned  on  her,  impatiently. 

"Exactly!"  he  retorted.  "Spend  all  the 
money  you  want  on  your  whims,  my  dear — get 
the  girl,  marry  her  to  some  great  grandson  of 
some  Dutch  peddler,  who  had  just  enough  sense 
to  cheat  Indians.  I'll  start  her  right,"  he 
added,  with  a  magnificently  generous  wave  of 
his  hand.  "She'll  enjoy  that.  But  let  Jack 
alone.  He's  American — he's  my  boy." 

"I  might  have  known,"  the  woman  said,  bit- 
terly. '  *  I  see  now  what  you  think  of  my  daugh- 
ter." 

He  strode  over  to  her,  and  patted  her  shoul- 
der in  kindly  fashion. 

"Very  few  daughters  come  up  to  their 
mothers,  my  dear,"  he  observed. 

"Most  sons  surpass  their  fathers,"  she  said, 
acridly. 

"Then,  it  wouldn't  be  a  fair  match,  would 
282 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

it?"  he  chuckled.  " Thank  you,  my  dear,  for 
agreeing  with  me." 

She  drew  herself  up,  angrily. 

' '  I  would  have  you  know,  Mr.  Hendrix, ' '  she 
said,  "that,  though  you  seem  to  consider  your 
son  better  than  my  daughter — my  daughter  will 
have  a  position  in  society." 

"Exactly,"  he  assented.  "Your  daughter 
and  Chase's  will  have  whatever  position  I  buy 
for  her — just  that. ' ' 

"I  am  going  to  get  my  daughter,  with  your 
help  or  without,"  she  said,  in  a  full  tide  of 
anger;  "in  any  way  I  can." 

Hendrix  looked  at  his  wife  earnestly.  He 
was  not  in  quest  of  offending  her;  he  had  no 
desire  to  be  disagreeable  toward  her.  She  was 
not  a  woman  who  might  be  twirled  around  one's 
fingers.  If  she  planned  anything,  she  might  be 
counted  on  to  go  through  it  determinedly.  It 
was  a  quality  about  her  that  Hendrix  liked. 
So,  he  said  slowly: 

"Well,  if  you're  set  on  it,  suppose  we  com- 
promise. You  let  Jack  alone — stop  that  fool- 

283 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

ishness  right  here — and  I'll  settle  the  other  my 
own  way.  Chase  has  to  sell  his  invention  to 
me.  Do  you  understand  that?  He  has  to  sell 
it!" 

"Well?" 

"Well,  I'll  give  him  a  little  better  price,  and 
make  him  throw  the  girl  in.  How  does  that 
suit  you?" 

1 '  You  will  f ' '  she  asked,  eagerly. 

"Yes.  But,  remember — no  interference!" 
He  had  been  going  to  speak  further,  but  he 
paused  on  the  entrance  of  John  Chase  and  Dor- 
othy. 


284 


CHAPTEE  XXX 

JOHN  CHASE'S  ANSWEB 

JOHN  CHASE'S  manner,  as  he  stood  facing 
Ms  former  wife  and  his  life-long  enemy, 
was  one  of  forced  courtesy,  the  sort  of  polite- 
ness that  a  gentleman  in  his  own  house  must 
show  to  a  degree  even  to  most  unwelcome 
guests.  Dorothy,  too,  bowed  with  quiet  dignity. 
Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Hendrix,  to  do  her  justice,  was 
plainly  ill  at  ease.  But  no  condition  could 
easily  excite  Hendrix  to  embarrassment.  On 
the  contrary,  now  he  bustled  forward,  and  in- 
sisted on  taking  heartily  the  hand  that  Chase 
reluctantly  put  out  to  him.  He  shook  it  vigor- 
ously. 

"Hello,  John  Chase!  How  are  you?"  he 
asked,  boisterously.  "It's  been  altogether  too 
long  a  time  since  we  met.  I'm  glad  to  see 
you."  He  turned  with  the  greatest  effrontery 

285 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

toward  his  wife.  "My  dear,  yon  remember 
John  Chase?" 

"Naturally,"  said  the  wondering,  hurt 
woman.  She  bowed. 

"Mr.  Chase,"  she  acknowledged. 

"Mrs.  Hendrix,"  said  her  former  husband, 
with  a  stiff  bow. 

"Mr.  Hendrix,"  said  Dorothy,  with  a  slight 
bow. 

At  that,  the  magnate  came  forward  with  a 
pump-handle  shake  for  Dorothy's  hand. 

"I  am  always  delighted,"  he  said,  "to  meet 
the  wife  of  my  boyhood  friend. ' ' 

Both  John  Chase  and  his  former  wife  winced 
at  this. 

"His  second  wife,  Mr.  Hendrix,"  corrected 
Dorothy. 

"  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure, ' '  said  Hendrix,  some- 
what disturbed  for  the  moment  from  his  colossal 
aplomb. 

"I  mention  it  for  the  sake  of  distinction 
merely,"  Dorothy  suggested,  with  a  smile. 

"To  be  sure — to  be  sure,  for  the  sake  of  dis- 
286 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

tinction !  Oh,  by  the  way,  Mrs.  Chase — do  you 
— have  you  met  Mrs.  Hendrix!" 

The  women  bowed  again. 

"I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mrs. 
Chase  already,'*  said  Mrs.  Hendrix.  "And, 
then,  I've  heard  a  great  deal  of  her  from  my 
daughter,"  she  continued,  tartly. 

"Yes,"  retorted  Dorothy,  without  delay. 
"We  should  know  each  other  quite  well.  My 
husband  has  spoken  of  you. ' ' 

Hendrix,  genially  unconscious  of  the  bitter 
duel  between  the  women,  spread  his  hands 
broadly. 

"That's  what  I  say,"  he  exclaimed,  heartily. 
"We  all  know  each  other  so  well — I  may  say,  so 
very  well ! ' ' 

"We  do  know  each  other  well,"  remarked 
Chase,  with  emphasis. 

"Exactly,"  pursued  Hendrix,  without  change 
of  manner.  "It's  only  a  shame  that  we  can't 
know  each  other  better.  We  should  be  close 
friends.  We  can  be  of  mutual  aid.  Our  fam- 
ilies should  be  intimate.  Think,  man — fellows 

287 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

who  went  to  school  together,  as  we  did.  Why, 
we  ought  almost  to  be  one  big  family." 

Willa  and  Jack  sauntered  into  the  room  in 
time  to  hear  this  last  speech  by  Hendrix,  and 
the  young  girl  broke  in  naively. 

"Aren't  we — almost?" 

Jack  stifled  a  laugh  behind  his  hand.  The 
others  all  looked  shocked. 

" Willa!"  exclaimed  her  mother. 

"My  child!"  admonished  Chase. 

"But  you  both  know  it's  true,"  Willa  insisted. 
Yet,  she  subsided  in  a  pout  that  won  admiring 
glances  from  Jack  at  least. 

"Mrs.  Chase,"  said  Hendrix  to  Dorothy, 
working  up  his  opportunity  as  he  saw  it,  "you 
and  these  other  young  people  do  not  realize 
what  an  occasion  this  is.  Why,  it's  like  old 
times  again.  Why,  your  husband  and  I  used 
to  sit  together  in  the  old  country  school." 

"Indeed!"  remarked  Dorothy,  but  without 
any  least  show  of  interest. 

"Yes — yes,  indeed!"  Hendrix  smiled,  then 
laughed.  "Mrs.  Hendrix  was  a  fat  little  girl 

288 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

then,  and  she  used  to  sit  across  the  aisle,  bare- 
legged, with  pigtails  down  her  back." 

This  vision  of  her  now  elegant  mother  as  a 
little,  half-savage  schoolgirl  was  most  distress- 
ing to  Willa. 

* '  My  mother — bare-legged ! ' '  she  gasped. 

" Pigtails!"  cried  Jack,  with  mock  horror  in 
his  tones. 

Mrs.  Hendrix  herself  looked  out  of  counte- 
nance, and  Dorothy  did  not  spare  her. 

"That  was  a  very  long  time  ago,  wasn't  it?" 
she  asked  sweetly  of  the  millionaire. 

"Well,  I — "  began  Mrs.  Hendrix,  indig- 
nantly. 

"Why — yes,  it  was  a  long  time  ago,"  the 
magnate  agreed,  cheerfully.  "You  remember 
that — don't  you,  John  Chase?" 

"Yes,"  said  Chase,  coldly. 

"Well,  so  do  I,"  grinned  Hendrix. 

"I  think,"  said  Jack  whimsically,  "that  we 
young  persons  should  thank  you  two  for  per- 
mitting us  the  pleasure — the  unexpected  pleas- 
ure— of  witnessing  this  delightful  reunion." 

289 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

II  Don't  mention   it,"   broke   in   his    father. 
' '  Do  you  remember,  John,  the  day  you  thrashed 
me  under  that  big  maple  back  of  the  school?" 

I 1 1  remember  that  well, ' '  said  Chase,  forcibly 
and  promptly. 

"So  do  I,"  declared  Hendrix,  with  a  sudden 
intensity  that  betrayed  the  viciousness  behind 
his  mask  of  pleasantry. 

"That  was  the  time  of  stealing  examination 
papers,  wasn't  it?"  Willa  challenged,  with  blunt 
brutality. 

"Willa!"  remonstrated  her  mother. 

"Well,  it's  true,  mother,"  said  the  girl. 
"You  know  it  is." 

"I  think  your  daughter  takes  after  you," 
said  Hendrix  drily,  trying  to  conceal  the 
sting  of  the  question  that  the  girl  had  asked 
him. 

"Father,"  interposed  Jack,  "I  wouldn't  for 
the  world  interrupt  your  very  interesting  rem- 
iniscences, but  I  think  you  and  Mr.  Chase  un- 
derstand each  other,  so,  if  you're  going  to 
suggest  business,  I  would  suggest — " 

290 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Good  suggestion,  Jack,"  said  Hendrix,  in  a 
hurry.  He  turned  suddenly  to  Chase.  '  *  Could 
you  give  a  few  minutes  to  the  Consolidated 
Steel  Company,  John?" 

"Consolidated  Steel?"  exclaimed  Chase. 

"Yes — I'm  Consolidated  Steel,"  said  the 
magnate,  blandly. 

"This  is  hardly  the  time  or  place  to  discuss 
business,"  said  Chase,  still  coldly. 

"Any  place  and  all  the  time  are  good  for 
business,  John,"  said  his  old  enemy. 

Dorothy  took  the  matter  in  hand. 

"Mrs.  Hendrix  and  I  can  wait  in  the  draw- 
ing-room below,  John, ' '  she  said. 

The  other  woman  made  a  sign  of  assent,  and 
Chase  found  himself  constrained  to  accept  the 
situation.  Willa,  her  mother,  Dorothy  and 
Jack  withdrew.  The  two  men  faced  each 
other. 

"John  Chase,"  said  Hendrix  promptly,  "I 
can  use  your  steel  process.  You  need  my 
money.  Business  is  business.  Let's  get  to- 
gether. ' ' 

291 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Are  you  forgetting,"  demanded  Chase,  "the 
injunction  suit  brought  against  me  to — by  the 
National  Power — your  Company  ?" 

"I'm  going  to  prove  my  friendship  by  allow- 
ing you  to  compromise,"  said  Hendrix,  easily. 

"Compromise?"  sneered  Chase.  "I'm  not 
limited  to  you.  I  can  sell  elsewhere." 

Hendrix  bent  his  brows. 

"You  cannot  sell  anywhere,"  he  declared, 
sharply.  "Your  process  infringes  our  pat- 
ents. ' ' 

"That's  a  lie,  and  you  know  it,"  said  Chase, 
bluntly. 

"The  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States 
will  decide  that,  if  necessary,"  said  Hendrix, 
with  directness.  Then,  after  a  pause,  he  added : 
"That  will  take  a  long  time,  John." 

Chase  saw  the  trap.  He  sprang  up  in  an 
agony  of  rage  at  the  contemplation  of  the  ruin 
thus  thrust  imminently  upon  him. 

"I — "  he  began,  wrathfully.  But  he  broke 
off  before  the  triumph  in  his  enemy's  eyes. 

Hendrix  even  smiled. 
293 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"It  is  a  different  kind  of  a  maple  tree  this 
time,  John  Chase,"  he  said,  pointedly. 

Chase  stood  fighting  hard  for  self-control. 

"There  is  money  in  your  process,  John," 
Hendrix  continued  smoothly,  "if  the  right  man 
handles  it." 

"Then,  why  doesn't  your  company  buy?" 

"They  have  a  good  process,  and,  if  they  can 
strangle  yours  with  the  law,  what  is  the  use 
of  buying?" 

1 '  Such  injustice ! ' ' 

"Not  injustice,"  grinned  Hendrix;  "busi- 
ness." 

"If  I  had  money—" 

"Ah,  yes,  if  you  had  money,  you'd  beat  them 
— you  could  force  it. ' ' 

"Yes,  by  God!    I'd  beat  them!" 

"Suppose  I  furnish  the  money?" 

"You?"  asked  the  amazed  Chase.  "What? 
Did  I  hear  you  rightly?  You  offer  to  furnish 
the  money?" 

"There's  more  money  in  your  process  than 
in  the  Consolidated.  They  are  a  lot  of  old 

294 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

fogies.  They  can't  see  it — I  can.  I  furnish 
the  money  secretly,  and  I'll  help  organize  the 
Chase  Steel  Company. " 

"You'll  do  it  fairly  and  honorably?"  de- 
manded Chase. 

"Yes." 

"Your  terms?" 

"I'll  control  the  company,  but  you  shall  be 
president  at  a  big  salary." 

"What  else?" 

"You  mustn't  sell  any  of  your  stock  for  ten 
years?" 

"What  else?" 

"Any  further  inventions  must  go  to  the  com- 
pany at  low  royalty.  Stick  to  me,  John,  and 
you  '11  have  more  millions  than  you  have  fingers 
and  toes." 

"What  else?"  demanded  Chase  again. 
"There  must  be  more?" 

"That's  about  all — er — except  for  a  few 
minor  conditions." 

"Oh,  minor  conditions!    Well?" 

Hendrix  thrust  his  hands  in  his  trouser- 
295 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

pockets.  He  knew  that  now  he  was  about  en- 
tering on  dangerous  ground.  He  hesitated, 
therefore,  for  some  time  before  he  said: 

"There's  a  favor — I'd  like  to  have  your 
daughter  visit  at  my  house?" 

"A  favor?" 

"Yes.  Between  these  families  of  partners, 
there  is  generally  social  intercourse.  I  met 
Jack  when  I  came." 

"Suppose  she  calls,"  suggested  Chase. 

"I  didn't  say  call,  John,"  said  Hendrix: 
patiently;  "I  said  visit." 

"How  long?" 

"Two  years.  Then  the  agreement  between 
yourself  and  Mrs.  Hendrix  terminates,  and  the 
girl  herself  can  decide  where  she  will  visit  and 
where  she  will  live." 

Chase  turned  on  the  other  man,  bitterly. 

"And  that's  what  you  call  'a  favor'?"  he 
cried.  .  .  .  "It's  the  whole  condition — the 
one  condition.  Did  you  think  you  had  me 
fooled,  Hendrix?  Did  you  suppose  that  I  be- 
lieved that  the  man  who  would  cut  the  throat 

296 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

of  his  own  company  could  be  honest?  I  knew 
from  the  beginning,  and  I  led  you  on  and  on, 
until  you  showed  me  your  hand.  You  bought 
my  wife.  Now,  you'd  buy  my  daughter — buy 
her,  for  twenty  millions!" 

"Me?"  cried  Hendrix,  throwing  up  his  hands. 
"Buy  her,  for  twenty  millions?  Girls  are  up! 
I  wouldn't  give  two  bits  for  her.  I  carry  out 
a  whim  of  my  wife's — that  all.  I  always  give 
my  family  what  they  want,  when  I  can  get  it." 

"Your  offer  is  refused,"  said  Chase  curtly. 
"Go!" 

"The  Supreme  Court  for  yours,"  said  Hen- 
drix briskly,  as  he  turned  to  leave  the  room. 


297 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

OUT   OF   CHAOS 

HENDEIX,  in  high  dudgeon,  did  not,  how- 
ever, leave  the  room,  as  he  had  at  first 
resolved  to  do,  when  John  Chase  contemptu- 
ously and  indignantly  put  his  offer  aside.  The 
reason  for  this  was  that,  in  stamping  out  toward 
the  doorway,  he  was  forced  to  a  sudden  halt, 
and  to  a  movement  backward  quite  as  sudden, 
in  order  to  avert  a  collision  with  his  own  son 
and  John  Chase's  daughter. 

These  two  young  persons  stood  hand  in  hand 
and  smiling  most  beautifully  at  all  the  world, 
including  Thomas  Hendrix  and  John  Chase. 

The  two  men  looked  in  angry  wonder  at  the 
pair — at  the  clasped  hands,  advertising  so 
broadly  the  complete  and  tender  understand- 
ing between  them.  There  was  a  moment's 

298 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

pause,  in  which  Thomas  Hendrix  snorted  an  ex- 
pression of  his  displeasure,  and  John  Chase 
took  a  step  forward,  as  if  he  would  forcibly  de- 
tach the  hand  of  his  daughter  from  the  clasp 
of  young  Hendrix. 

But  Jack  anticipated  anything  that  either  of 
the  parents  might  have  thought  to  say,  by 
speaking  himself: 

"Well,"  he  said,  genially,  "we're  here." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  his  father,  roughly. 

The  anger  of  his  parent's  tone  did  not  serve 
to  disconcert  the  young  artist. 

"Well,"  he  replied  affably  and  airily,  "you 
see,  dad,  we  could  not  overlook  a  bit  like  this 
— having  you  two  together,  you  know.  So,  we 
have  come  to  ask  your  consent — " 

"What  consent?"  demanded  both  fathers, 
fiercely  and  simultaneously. 

Young  Hendrix  laughed,  and  nodded  his  head 
briskly  in  the  affirmative. 

' '  Sure ! "  he  said.  ' '  Willa  and  I  have  decided 
to  get  married." 

"Good  God!" 

300 


For  once  in  their  lives,  Chase  and  Hendrix 
were  acting  completely  in  unison. 

There  was  a  pause ;  then,  still  of  one  accord, 
they  wheeled  on  each  other. 

"This  is  your  work!"  Chase  cried. 

"You  knew  all  about  this!"  stormed  Hen- 
drix. 

Chase's  horror  and  disgust  were  openly  mani- 
fested. 

"I  knew!"  he  exclaimed,  with  wrathful  de- 
nial in  the  ejaculation. 

"I'd  rather  see  my  son — "  began  Hendrix. 

But  Jack  interrupted.  He  held  to  his  gay 
manner  of  speaking,  though  his  face  was  white, 
and  the  words  came  with  little  clicks  from  his 
determinedly  set  jaws. 

"Now — now,  dad!"  he  exclaimed.  "This 
isn't  a  tragedy,  you  know — it's  comedy.  Don't 
act  like  a  stage  millionaire.  Be  human — if  you 
can!" 

Unconsciously,  there  had  come  right  then  vis- 
ually a  sharp  dividing  of  the  Hendrix  and  Chase 
families.  It  was  due  to  Willa,  half -frightened 

301 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

by  the  tragic  aspect  of  her  own  father's  counte- 
nance, for  she  went  to  him  timidly,  and,  stand- 
ing with  her  hand  on  his  arm,  an  appeal  to  him 
in  her  eyes,  besought  him  mutely. 

Chase,  in  turn,  openly  appealed  to  her. 

"Willa,"  he  said,  "you  cannot  marry  the 
son  of  such  a  man ! ' ' 

"Why  can't  IT'  she  demanded,  in  arms  at 
once  in  Jack's  defense.  Then,  she  added, 
pertly :  ' '  Mother  married  his  father ! ' ' 

Hendrix  turned  to  Chase ;  Chase  to  Hendrix ; 
their  long  enmity  was  for  a  little  time  sub- 
merged, forgotten  in  the  face  of  what  each 
deemed  a  calamity  threatening  himself. 

"John,  this  is  awful!"  gulped  Hendrix. 

"It  is  terrible ! ' '  replied  Chase.  "We 
must — " 

"Yes,  we  must  stop  it,"  Hendrix  hastened 
to  say. 

"We  will!"  affirmed  John  Chase,  violently. 

Hendrix  wheeled  on  Jack. 

"I'll  give  you  one  more  chance,"  he  said. 

"I  don't  need  it,"  said  his  son,  in  retort. 
302 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Hendrix  made  a  gesture  of  impatience,  in- 
dicative of  his  being  entirely  without  thought 
of  tolerance  in  the  matter. 

"You  can't  marry  the  daughter  of  an  en- 
emy," he  said,  firmly.  "Drop  this  foolishness, 
right  here,  or — or — I'll—" 

' '  Why,  dad, ' '  said  Jack  with  a  geniality  thor- 
oughly exasperating  to  his  parent,  "I  told  you 
at  the  beginning  that  tragedy  stuff  didn't  go 
with  me."  He  waved  his  hand,  in  gentle  ex- 
postulation. "You  set  me  the  example:  you 
married  her  mother."  He  smiled  mischiev- 
ously. "  I  'm  paying  you  a  delicate  compliment. 
Now,  go  as  far  as  you  like." 

Hendrix  paused,  frowning.  He  knew  Jack 
— knew  that  behind  the  superficial  flippancy 
lurked  a  steady  will. 

"You — my  son — "he  began. 

"Sure,  I'm  your  son.  I've  got  your  blood  in 
me.  If  you  wanted  a  son  you  could  run  over, 
you  ought  to  have  adopted  one." 

The  father  flung  out  his  hands,  even  turning 
to  Chase  in  his  extremity. 

303 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"John,"  he  said,  "the  boy's  stark  crazy. 
You — you  stop  this." 

"I  will,"  replied  Chase,  with  a  certain  grim 
enthusiasm ;  and  he  faced  his  daughter. 

"Willa,"  he  asked,  "don't  you  see  how  im- 
possible this  marriage  is?  You  can't  marry 
young  Hendrix  when  his  father  is  my  bitterest 
enemy." 

Willa  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"You  seem  very  friendly,"  she  observed, 
without  in  the  least  sharing  his  excitement. 

"Why,  he's  trying  to  ruin  me,  Willa,"  ex- 
postulated her  father. 

1 1  Then,  Jack  and  I  will  save  you,  daddy, ' '  she 
said,  smilingly. 

And  Jack  at  this  juncture  intervened : 

"Mr.  Chase,"  he  said  with  a  swift  transition 
to  admirable  earnestness,  "I  love  Willa,  and  I 
intend  to  marry  her.  Won't  you  give  your 
consent  ? ' ' 

"No." 

Willa  took  a  cue  from  Jack.  She  went,  with 
great  deliberation,  over  to  Hendrix. 

304 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Mr.  Hendrix,"  said  she,  "I  love  Jack,  and 
I  intend  to  marry  him.  "Won't  you  take  me 
for  a  daughter1?" 

Hendrix  scowled  at  her  undeniably  fresh, 
bright  and  charm  ing  countenance. 

"Young  woman,"  he  snarled,  "I  don't  want 
you  for  a  daughter — I  won't  have  you ! ' ' 

Instantly,  Willa's  little  nose  was  in  the  air. 
She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  nonchalantly. 

"We  didn't  intend  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  you,  anyhow,"  she  said,  in  disdainful  com- 
placency. 

Hendrix  snarled  his  anger  and  amazement 

"John,"  he  said,  "they're  both  crazy." 

"They  are,"  assented  Chase. 

"And  you  are  responsible!"  roared  Hendrix. 

"I,  responsible!"  cried  Chase,  furiously. 

"Yes,  you  permitted  it,"  retorted  Hendrix, 
bitterly.  "You  must  have  known!  Why  did 
you  let  my  boy  come  here?  It's  easy  to  see 
what  you  wanted.  Through  your  daughter  and 
my  son,  you  thought  you'd  hold  me." 

'  *  Hendrix,  enough  of  that ! ' '  Chase  burst  out. 
305 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

It  hardly  needed  the  speaker's  shaken  fist  to 
warn  the  magnate  that  he  had  gone  too  far. 
Chase,  his  glance  of  hot  anger  and  scorn  cen- 
tered on  Hendrix,  had  not  observed  the  entrance 
of  Dorothy  and  his  former  wife. 

"I  tell  you,  Hendrix,"  Chase  went  on,  "I'd 
rather  face  ruin  a  thousand  times  than  give 
my  daughter  to  your  wife,  or  have  her  marry 
your  son ! ' ' 

* '  Ruin ! ' '  cried  Dorothy,  moving  rapidly  over 
to  her  husband,  as  she  caught  the  ominous 
word. 

"Marry!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hendrix,  seizing 
that  word  most  important  to  her  own  maternal 
ears. 

"What  is  it,  John?"  urged  Dorothy,  peremp- 
torily. 

"These  Hendrix,"  he  said,  with  intense  bit- 
terness, "are  trying  to  ruin  me — and,  now,  his 
son  wants  to  marry  my  daughter!" 

Dorothy  looked  at  her  husband,  calmly. 

"Well,  why  shouldn't  he?"  she  asked,  in 
serene  inquiry. 

306 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

He  drew  away  from  her  in  a  sudden  access  of 
horror. 

"Dorothy!"  he  expostulated. 

Mrs.  Hendrix's  voice  was  heard. 

"Do  you  still  think  your  son  better  than  my 
daughter?"  she  was  demanding. 

"I  know  it,"  retorted  Hendrix,  with  flat  de- 
fiance. 

"She  shall  marry  him,"  replied  his  wife,  in 
anger. 

"Mother!" 

It  was  Willa,  and  the  girl's  cry  had  a  tremor 
of  joy  in  it. 

Jack  clapped  his  hands. 

"Bully!  "he  cried. 

Meanwhile,  John  Chase  was  regarding  his 
wife  with  injured,  remonstrating  eyes. 

"Dorothy,"  he  asked,  "do  you  think  this  is 
being  a  mother  to  my  child  f  I  married  you  for 
that." 

She  stared  at  him. 

"You  did?"  she  demanded,  with  some  in- 
dignation. But,  immediately  recovering,  she 

307 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

nodded  and  smiled.  ''Very  well,"  said  she; 
"I'll  accept  a  mother's  authority."  With  the 
most  maternal  air  of  which  she  was  capable,  she 
turned  to  the  younger  girl. 

"Willa,  dear,"  she  said;  "it's  settled:  you 
marry  Jack. ' ' 

"Oh,  Dorothy!"  exclaimed  her  erstwhile  an- 
tagonist, genuine  contrition  mingling  with  her 
joy. 

"Yes,  Willa,"  said  her  own  mother  cor- 
roboratingly,  with  decision. 

"  No ! "  cried  Hendrix,  storming  anew. 

"  No ! "  echoed  Chase,  as  hotly. 

"She  shall!"  declared  Mrs.  Hendrix. 

"Yes,"  said  Dorothy,  "she  shall!  We  are 
her  mother." 

"Dorothy!"  cried  Chase.  "I  tell  you,  I 
won't  have  this  marriage.  I  forbid  it!" 

Willa 's  voice  foreboded  tears. 

"I  think  it  is  very  mean  and  horrid  of  you, 
father.  Dorothy  knows  Jack  much  better  than 
you  do.  She  knows  he's  the  one  man  in  all  the 
world. ' ' 

308 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Tom  Hendrix 's  son — the  one  man  in  the 
world!"  gasped  Chase,  and  he  relapsed  into 
speechlessness. 

Willa  openly  took  hold  of  her  lover's  hand. 
She  was  evidently  quoting  something  as  she 
might  have  quoted  the  Bible.  In  this  case,  it 
was  young  Hendrix. 

"Is  it  Jack's  fault  that  his  father  is  as  he  is? 
His  father  was  here  before  Jack  was.  Jack 
didn't  make  his  father's  character."  She  re- 
garded Hendrix,  senior,  with  the  most  open- 
faced  scorn. 

The  financier,  thus  shamelessly  attacked,  was 
infuriated.  But  he  was  too  wily  to  attempt  any 
further  bullying  of  his  son.  Instead,  he 
pleaded.  Indeed,  he  almost  whined : 

"Jack,  stop  this  madness!  I'll  do  anything 
for  you,  boy.  I'll  make  you  in  any  legitimate 
business!" 

Jack  amazed  Willa,  by  suddenly  dropping 
her  hand,  and  moving  over  to  his  father. 

"Do  you  mean  it,  dad?"  he  asked,  eagerly. 

' '  Jack ! ' '    Willa  said,  half -sobbing. 
309 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

Dorothy  and  Mrs.  Hendrix  stared  at  each 
other  with  misgiving  and  horror  almost  equal 
to  the  emotions  of  the  girl. 

"Yes,"  said  Hendrix,  himself  most  surprised 
of  all,  but  pressing  the  advantage  swiftly, 
"yes — anything!  I'll  give  you  a  million.  I'll 
start  you  in  any  business  you  wish,  if  you'll 
promise  not  to  talk  marriage  to  her,  not  to  visit 
her  or  write  to  her,  for  a  year." 

"You're  on!"  said  his  son,  with  enthusiasm. 
He  held  out  his  hand.  His  father  gripped  it, 
triumphantly. 

"Oh!"  was  all  the  speech  of  which  the  for- 
lorn little  Willa  was  capable.  She  turned 
toward  Dorothy,  gratefully  accepting  the  com- 
fort of  the  arm  of  her  step-mother  as  it  en- 
circled her  waist. 

"My  boy!"  exclaimed  Hendrix,  still  in  the 
flush  of  victory.  And,  then,  he  spoke  to  his 
wife  with  a  grin:  "He'll  forget  her  in  a 
year." 

Jack,  however,  stood  back,  looking  at  them 
all  with  the  play  of  the  whimsical  smile  on  his 

311 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

lips  that  was  his  charm.  After  a  moment,  he 
crossed  boldly  over  to  Willa's  father. 

"Mr.  Chase,  you  heard?  I  have  a  million. 
I'd  like  to  make  an  offer  for  the  Chase  pat- 
ents." 

Chase  drew  away.  The  play  of  young  Hen- 
drix's  mind,  his  ingenious  trapping  of  his  own 
astute  parent,  had  been  a  little  too  rapid  for 
the  comprehension  of  any  of  them. 

"I'm  serious,"  said  Jack,  almost  curtly. 
"I'll  furnish  the  money.  We'll  organize  the 
Chase  Steel  Company.  I'll  control  it,  but  you 
shall  be  president  at  a  big  salary." 

"What  else?"  asked  Chase,  who,  much  as 
he  hated  this  young  fellow's  father,  had  never 
been  able — and  he  had  tried  often  to  harden 
himself  against  the  lad's  amiability — quite  to 
muster  a  genuine  dislike  of  the  smiling, 
whimsical  youngster.  It  was  half  in  accord 
with  this  very  quality  of  whimsicality  that  he 
now  asked  the  question.  "What  else?" 

"You  must  not  sell  any  stock  for  five  years, 
and  any  further  inventions  to  belong  to  our 

312 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

company,"  said  Jack,  in  a  most  businesslike 
manner. 

Hendrix,  senior,  had  stood  with  jaws  agape, 
the  while.  But,  somehow,  the  fury  that  had 
first  violently  assailed  presently  yielded  to 
other  thoughts. 

" Tricked!"  said  he.  And,  then,  he  added, 
with  a  note  of  irrepressible  pride:  "He's  my 
boy!" 

"And  my  daughter?"  asked  Chase  flatly,  of 
young  Hendrix. 

"The  question  rests  with  you — or — well,  I 
guess,  really,  it's  up  to  her." 

"No!"  Chase  clamped  his  jaws  again  of  a 
sudden. 

But  Jack  stood  up  boldly.  This  time,  he 
looked  squarely  into  the  eyes  of  Chase,  and 
now  he  was  not  smiling: 

"You  won't  take  the  pill  sugar-coated  in  a 
year?"  he  said,  the  blood  mounting  to  his 
cheeks.  "All  right,  then,  you  shall  take  it  now 
— now!"  He  turned  with  a  hand  stretched 
out  to  Willa. 

313 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

"Come,  little  girl,"  he  said.  "We'll  marry 
to-day!" 

"Jack!" 

It  was  all  Willa  could  say  just  then,  as  she 
flew  to  him,  while  Dorothy  and  Mrs.  Hendrix 
smiled  in  their  relief  and  satisfaction  at  what 
was  happening. 

1 1  Stop ! ' '  cried  Chase.  '  *  I  forbid  it !  Willa, 
remember  your  duty  to  your  father ! ' ' 

"Yes,  duty,  Jack!"  supplemented  Hendrix, 
avidly  seizing  the  word.  "Your  duty  to  me!" 

"Duty!"  exclaimed  Willa,  doubtfully. 

"Duty?  Fiddlesticks!"  said  young  Hen- 
drix. He  thereupon  shook  his  fingers  vigor- 
ously at  his  parent  and  Chase.  "I  charge  you, 
fathers,  to  remember  your  duty  to  us.  You 
got  yourselves  into  this  pickle.  We  didn't. 
Eemember  your  duty  to  us." 

"Our  duty!"  the  men  cried  out,  aghast  before 
this  outrageous  accusation. 

"Yes,"  said  the  young  man  sturdily,  with 
steady  eyes  traveling  from  one  to  the  other. 
"Duty  and  love  run  forward — not  backward. 

314 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

If  we  are  not  what  we  should  be,  why,  then,  it's 
you  who  failed,  not  us.  Why  didn't  you  bring 
us  up  better?  Your  lives  are  settled  and  fixed; 
you've  had  your  chances.  If  you're  unhappy, 
don't  blame  us.  It's  our  turn,  now.  We  have 
our  lives  to  live.  You  live  for  each  other,  and 
for  those  to  come  after." 

There  was  a  silence.  Willa  was  regarding 
Jack  with  ecstatic  eyes.  The  others,  however, 
simply  stared,  bewildered  by  this  filial  heresy. 

"You  can  buck  Wall  Street  and  win,  dad, 
but  you  can't  buck  nature.  Be  sensible," 
young  Hendrix  concluded. 

"Don't  talk  that  copy-book  stuff  to  me,  boy," 
declared  Hendrix,  violently,  recovering  his 
usual  fierce  energy  in  a  struggle. 

"Father,  listen!"  This  was  Willa  pleading 
to  her  parent. 

Chase,  nevertheless,  maintained  an  obstinate 
silence.  It  was  Dorothy  who  spoke,  at  last: 

"They  are  right,  John,"  she  asserted. 
"You  want  to  keep  Willa 's  love.  Don't  you? 
You  want  her,  after  she's  married,  to  love  you 

315 


as  her  father,  not  to  think  of  you  as  that  middle- 
aged,  rather  unprepossessing  man  who  tried 
to  kill  her  happiness." 

"Dorothy!"  stammered  Chase,  at  his  wits' 
end  for  a  reply.  "Do  you  know  what  you  are 
saying?  Why — why,  you  talk  as  if  you  wanted 
her  to  go!" 

"I  do,"  she  said  to  him,  clearly;  nor  did 
she  hesitate  at  his  palpable  amazement.  "I 
do — for  her  happiness — for  your  happiness. 
You  must  choose,  John.  We  can't  continue  as 
we  have  been.  Step-mothers  and  step-daugh- 
ters weren't  intended  for  one  house.  Your 
daughter,  or  your  wife!"  She  hesitated,  but 
said  finally,  and  with  decision  unmistakable: 
"Your  daughter  goes,  or  I  go,  and  you  must 
take  your  choice." 

"Yes,"  assented  Willa. 

"Willa — Dorothy!"  pleaded  the  man  pathet- 
ically. 

Mrs.  Hendrix,  too,  had  something  to  say  just 
then  to  her  millionaire  husband.  Her  manner 
and  the  tone  of  her  voice  were  as  decisive  as 

316 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

had  been  the  manner  and  voice  of  Dorothy. 

"It's  your  time  to  choose,  Mr.  Hendrix," 
she  said.  "Do  you  accept  my  daughter!" 

"Well — now — now!  My  dear — "  He  es- 
sayed to  go  on,  but  she  cut  him  short. 

"If  she  isn't  good  enough  to  be  your  daugh- 
ter, I'm  not  good  enough  to  be  your  wife.  Now, 
choose!"  she  bade  him,  and  her  eyes  sparkled, 
dangerously. 

Hendrix  frowned.  He  rammed  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  and  paced  the  room.  Then,  at  last, 
he  looked  up,  and  spoke : 

"John  Chase,"  said  he,  "I  think  we'd  better 
compromise." 

The  clouds  of  perplexity  cleared  a  little, 
slowly,  from  the  brow  of  the  inventor. 

"Between  my  daughter  and  my  wife,  there's 
only  one  choice,"  he  said,  humbly  tender:  "my 
wife." 

"My  offer  still  holds,  Mr.  Chase,"  put  in 
young  Hendrix,  promptly. 

1 '  There,  then ! ' '  said  Dorothy.  ;  *  You  '11  come 
318 


THE  SECOND  WIFE 

back  on  your  father's  terms,  Willa,  and  wait 
until  he's  ready  for  you  to  marry?" 

Willa  kissed  her  step-mother  on  both  cheeks, 
her  lips  smiling,  her  eyes  abrim  with  tears. 

."Of  course,  'Mother*  Dorothy,"  she  said 
heartily,  and  with  a  new-born,  but  not  the  less 
genuine,  affection. 

There  followed  a  brief,  impressive  silence.  It 
was  John  Chase  who  broke  it.  He  scanned 
them  all,  but  most  particularly  did  he  look  at 
Dorothy  and  Willa;  and,  at  last,  he  spoke  in 
accents  of  amazement. 

He  said: 

"Well,  I '11  be  hanged!" 


THE  END. 


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